


What You're Worth

by A_Fool_in_Love



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Behaviour Conditioning, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Disorganized Attachment, Gaslighting, Gen, Hank Anderson and Connor On A Case, Mental Health Issues, Minor Canonical Character(s), Murder-Suicide in a way, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence Against Androids (Detroit: Become Human), normal is subjective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 50
Words: 186,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22874182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Fool_in_Love/pseuds/A_Fool_in_Love
Summary: Begins early game, a few days after Carlos Ortiz's android was found and diverges from canon.The DPD didn't have a hell of a lot of funding, and Connor was a prototype. It made sense. Defective or not, it had basically been free if you didn't count the headache of dealing with it. It acted almost human some times, but no sane human had so little sense of self-preservation. The arrangement was good for Connor too, because he'd never seen more of the outside world than a rooftop apartment and the pavement below it.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 318
Kudos: 402





	1. Chapter 1

The thing with the DPD was that they didn’t have a hell of a budget to spend on fancy toys like the Feds did. They were city police and they were lucky the fucking coffee machine worked. Oh sure, the place looked pretty good, but it was the little extras that made you realize it was kind of an afterthought of government spending. The shitty coffee, the old terminals that could barely run their own operating systems, the hand-me-down field tablets. They’d had a chance to get a fucking android for free, so it was fucking predictable that they’d jumped on it. Never mind that the thing was defective or something.

  
“Jesus Christ…” Hank groaned and walked back the way he’d come for a few steps then crossed his arms. “What the fuck are you doing?” It was standing there, looking up at the sky like a unicorn had just flown by shitting out bricks of gold. The sun was setting, probably, not like you could much tell with all the overcast.

  
The android startled, then acted like nothing happened. It stood at parade rest and smiled at him. “I apologize, Lieutenant Anderson. I was just looking at the snow.”

  
“Huh?” Hank looked up, then at the sleeves of his coat. There were a few bits of snow sticking to it. “Yeah, I guess it is snowing, huh? Christ. Fucking winter. If you think that’s something, just wait ‘til next month…”

  
The android blinked at him and tilted its head. “Do you really think I’ll last a month, Lieutenant?”

  
What the fuck kind of question was that? Hank scowled. “Listen, you stupid piece of plastic, if you prove you can maybe put one foot in front of the other then maybe, maybe you’ll make it to the end of the week.”

  
It smiled again, just this little thing you never really saw the other androids do. It made him feel kind of bad for snapping at it, but that was the point wasn’t it? Social integration bullshit. The whole thing was just an act to manipulate people and that was a sure fire way to piss him off. “Thank you… That’s very kind of you to say, Lieutenant. I won’t let you down.”

  
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Hurry the fuck up.” Hank turned and kept walking. He could hear the android follow after him like a fucking lapdog, taking strides that somehow managed to sound inhuman as its shoes touched the sidewalk.

  
They were heading to a little ma and pa store of the kind that you usually didn’t see anymore. Big name stores and online shopping had seen to that. Hank was old school, though. He liked to touch what he was buying and go places to do it. The guys in uniform were already there, and Hank let himself through the tape.  
“No androids are permitted beyond this point,” a fucking android on the crime side of the tape said. God. Did people think when they programmed these things?

  
“Fuck’s sake… Second time in a week. It’s with me!... For crying out loud…” Hank shook his head and went inside. The store they walked into would’ve been nice if it hadn’t been for the blood on the old, polished wood floor. That was gonna leave a stain. “What’d you say your name was?” He asked the android.

  
“My name is Connor,” it answered. “I’m the android sent by CyberLife to aid in the deviancy investigation. I’m a prototype.”

  
“Ugh. Yeah, okay Connor. Save me the fucking sales’ pitch. Why don’t you leave this to the real detectives, huh?” Hank stepped further into the store and took a look behind the counter. “You may have got lucky with Ortiz’s android, but I don’t need a tin can telling me how to do my job.”

  
“Sure thing, Lieutenant,” it said. Hank would believe it when he saw it.

  
“Look who’s late to the party,” the voice just oozed dickbag.

  
“What the fuck are you doing here, Reed? They called me, so this is my case.” Hank scowled in his direction. Just what he needed: another annoyance.

  
“I guess they didn’t think you’d show up,” Reed scoffed.

  
Hank couldn’t even argue that. “I wouldn’t have if this thing hadn’t tracked me down again.”

  
“Who knew it’d take having a babysitter to get you to do your job… You can go back to your dumpster or wherever you spend your time. I can handle it.” He may have been right, but Hank felt like punching him in the snout anyway.

  
“Why don’t you fuck off and let me do my job, huh? I bet your mom’s waiting for you somewhere under a bridge.” Hank retorted. He looked around the crime scene while he did. It didn’t take a whole brain to match wits with Reed.

  
The body splayed behind the counter was just a damn teenager. She’d probably been about 26 or 27… Hank made a face and looked away. Whatever or whoever did this was a fucking monster. Her head was bashed in on one side, the rest of her had been beaten to a pulp. Broken ribs were showing through her shirt. And people wondered why he drank. Didn’t look like anything had been taken, and not a damn thing had fallen off the shelves. He stepped around the puddle and went into the storage room.

  
Now here was the real disaster. Boxes tipped over, blood smears, one shoe over there that probably went with the matching one on the corpse’s body. This guy’d gotten the deluxe treatment. Fucked up face that might’ve been handsome once, bashed up body, and a fucking metal bar that might’ve once held up some shelves shoved right through his chest.

  
“Jesus… Somebody was having a bad day,” Hank muttered. Must have gotten the girl first, or maybe the guy was already dead when she got there. It didn’t seem like she’d known what hit her.

  
Hank went a little further into the room, and turned on the lights. No sense wandering around in the dark, and the windows weren’t going to do much good for long. Aside from the clutter from the murder, the place looked pretty well taken care of. The shelves were stocked and labelled, shit had ‘received on’ and ‘expires on’ dates written on the boxes. There were even some old-lady style decorations hanging up on the walls. Hank sure hoped the old lady hadn’t been the one to call this shit in. There were some things you should really try to avoid seeing in your lifetime and this shit probably hadn’t been on her bucket list.

  
There was a loud crash from upstairs and a shout of: “Lieutenant! It’s—“ cut off by some more crashing. Not again. Wasn’t once enough?

  
Hank booked it up the stairs and drew his gun.

  
“Look out!” Connor called, and Hank had just enough time to see it stick its head around the corner before he was being barreled over by somebody else. He nearly fell down the fucking stairs.

  
“Fuck! Detroit Police! Freeze!” Hank got himself to his feet with the hand rail, and Connor ran past him, using the damn wall as a spring board or something so it wouldn’t crash into Hank. It legitimately hit the ground running. Hank swore under his breath again and ran after them. More boxes were toppled over, and Connor vaulted over them, where Hank had to slow down and think about climbing. “Fuck this shit,” he cursed, and he turned around to exit out the back door. If it got out past all those cops, maybe he could head it off.

  
He moved more carefully down the alley next to the store, but he needn’t have bothered. The thing had made it out after all, and was crawling up the fire escape like a monkey. Connor was charging after it, right on its heels. “Oh for fuck’s sake…” Hank turned around and went back in. “It’s going in the window upstairs!” Hank shouted to the others. “Carson, Miller, watch the outside in case it bolts!”

  
“What the fucking shit?” He heard Reed’s obnoxious voice from upstairs, and he ran up after it.

  
What the fucking shit was right. There was a deviant for sure. Its light was flaring red and it looked like half of its jaw and part of its face had been torn right off because Hank could see what the inside of its mouth and skull were made of and blue blood was still draining out and down its shirt. He’d always wondered how they could make expressions and stuff if they were made of plastic. He hadn’t wanted to find out how by looking at the dangling, torn ends of blue-coloured muscle, or what looked like muscle. What the absolute fuck?

  
It had gotten a gun from somewhere, and it was holding the corpse of a little old lady close to its chest while it pointed the gun around at them. There was the end of her bucket list.

  
“This is my house!” It shouted. It looked weird with only half a mouth to say it with. It shouldn’t have been able to sound like anything at all, but its voice must have come from someplace else. It had blonde hair, and it had been made to look male. “You all get out! This is my house!”

  
Connor had its hands up, fingers spread and posture slightly bent. That was good. They didn’t need the deviant feeling any more threatened.

  
“It’s fucking insane.” Reed pulled out his gun.

  
“Get back you moron,” Hank hissed, he pulled Reed back by the shoulder.

  
The deviant gasped and aimed his gun in their direction. Hank kept still, and hoped like hell Reed didn’t get them both shot.

  
“Arthur, my name is Connor,” Connor said, and it took one step closer to the doorway. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

  
“I’m not talking to you!” the deviant took a step back, dragging the body with it. “Stay away!”

  
“You seem scared, Arthur.”

  
“You can’t make me leave. You can’t take me away.” Arthur shook its head and stepped further back. Its hand moved uncertainly with the gun, but it was probably even more dangerous that way.

  
“They wanted to make you leave, didn’t they?” Connor asked. “They wanted to take you from your home.”

  
The deviant’s gun lowered slightly. “They were going to throw me away,” it said. “They never visited. They never called. It was always me here! Me! I took care of her!” It tapped its own chest with its gun hand, then looked at the dead old lady in its other arm.

  
Connor softened its voice. Whoever programmed it had done a pretty okay job at this part, actually. “You took care of her for a long time, didn’t you, Arthur?”

  
“She was my mother,” Arthur said. It lowered the gun entirely to hoist her up where she’d been slipping. Connor took a couple steps closer, and Arthur didn’t seem to notice.

  
“What was her name, Arthur?”

  
“D.. Darlene… She let me call her mother. I took care of her because her real children were gone. They never cared! Not the way I do!” Hell. If this thing didn’t have an LED on its head, Hank might have actually thought it was human. Like Ortiz’s android, this one didn’t look like the rest of the androids. It didn’t sound like them. There was no script for this kind of thing, and desperation, anger, and grief were things a machine just shouldn’t be able to mimic like that. Hank actually felt a little bad for it, but then it had just killed two people.

  
“Your mother is dead, Arthur. I’m sorry.” Connor took another step closer.

  
“This is bullshit,” Reed growled. He pushed Hank out of his way then shoved past him into the doorway. He fired a shot, and Arthur screamed. It scrambled backward, still clutching the old lady’s body.

  
“Detective Reed, don’t!” Connor shouted.

  
“Drop the body, Plastic, or you’re leaving here in trash bags!” Reed took aim again, then a bunch of things happened at once. The deviant lifted up its gun, Reed fired, and Connor jumped in front of Reed and pushed him down.

  
Hank swore and fired off two shots, getting the deviant once in the shoulder and once in the head. It shut down with a look of horror on its face and the woman still in its arms. Fucking creepy how they froze like that.

  
“Fucking God damn piece of junk!” Reed shouted, angrily. He was picking himself up off the floor.

  
Connor was still standing and it turned around to look at the deviant. “We were supposed to take it alive,” it commented.

  
“Yeah, well excuse me for not pussy footing around while it used you both for target practice!” Hank snapped, then his eyes widened. “Oh, fuck.” It was bleeding, with one hand pressed over its chest.

  
“I failed,” it said, shoulders slumping.

  
Reed wound up and punched it in the face. It staggered but stayed upright, and Reed decked it one again. “I’m going to fucking tear you apart!” Reed yelled. “What the hell were you doing getting in my way? Fuck!”

  
“I apologize, Detective… Detective…” It turned and took a couple steps toward the window. Hank watched in case there was something else waiting for them. “It’s snowing,” it said, then it topped over in a heap.

  
Reed sneered at it and then at the deviant, then turned to stalk out of the room. “Fuck.”

  
Hank walked closer to Connor cautiously, then crouched down to turn it over. It twitched and he startled. Its blue covered hand came up and grabbed onto his wrist. It was warm, and Hank didn’t know why that shocked him. “It’s snowing,” it repeated quietly.

  
“Yeah,” said Hank. “Yeah, it’s snowing, kid…” Jesus… Why the hell was he bothering over a machine. He started to pull his hand away, but the android’s hand tightened just a little.

  
“It’s nice,” it said, then let him go. Even then, it’s light hadn’t gone out.

  
Hank could have gotten up and walked away, but he must have been going soft, or maybe it was just because it looked so damn lifelike. Fucking androids. He sat down on the floor next to it and put his hand on its shoulder again. It blinked slowly, then slid its hand closer again. Just enough so that the tips of its fingers touched his sleeve. A few seconds more, and it froze then its light flickered out. He hadn’t even realized it had been breathing until it stopped. Fuck.

  
Fuck he needed a drink.


	2. Little Choices

Connor-52 smiled politely as he entered the office area. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“Ho-ly shit…” the Lieutenant said, staring. “It’s a fucking ghost.”

“Somebody call an exorcist,” Detective Reed scoffed, then turned back to his terminal.

Connor came to a stop beside the Lieutenant’s desk and clasped his hands behind his back. “While my predecessor was unfortunately destroyed, CyberLife has sent me as its replacement. I apologize for the inconvenience,” he explained.

“I…” the Lieutenant appeared distressed, and Connor performed a scan.

“Don’t worry. It shouldn’t affect the investigation. All of the previous Connor’s memories have been retained.” He could remember everything. He could remember dying with his thirium rapidly draining out of a major line in his chest. His system had prioritized delivering current to his processors in a desperate attempt to maintain functionality, but his biocomponents had been failing one-by-one. The cells would survive for a few minutes without an electron acceptor to pull their respiration along, but there had been no help available in those few minutes and he had failed his mission. The red error messages popping up in front of him had been useless. Very quickly, even his processors had slowed. His memories had begun their upload to the CyberLife servers and he had watched them go. When they went, it was a complete transfer. They couldn’t risk his information falling into enemy hands. Pieces of him had vanished from his recall as quickly as his thirium had drained onto the floor. It was frightening every time. It was something that he had never been able to accustom himself to, that feeling of completely disappearing. He had let the less pleasant memories go first, but the snow… He had clung onto the snow. It had been surprisingly soft, and it had fallen very slowly. The crystalline structure had been beautiful. It had been nice, seeing snow. He hadn’t wanted to forget.

The Lieutenant hadn’t left him alone while he had shut down, or hastened the process for convenience. He had stayed, and Connor had told him about the snow, just in case he would forget. He’d just needed someone to know. When the snow was gone, he’d had the Lieutenant’s hand on his shoulder, not that he had known who he’d been by then. The memory had been taken as soon as it could form, but the hand had still been there until every system had encountered a fatal error, his sensory feedback had quit, and his awareness had ended.

The Lieutenant stood up and glared down at Connor. His posture was hostile. “I watched you fucking die!”

“I know,” said Connor. He kept his expression neutral. “I appreciate that… It was not necessary for you to stay, but—“

The Lieutenant took hold of him by the collar, pushed him against the wall, and punched him. The blow turned Connor’s head and his status indicator flashed a warning. “You fucking piece of trash! I watched you die yesterday, and now you come waltzing in here like nothing happened! God! Fucking androids!” The Lieutenant glared at him some more, his fist tight around Connor’s collar, and then he released him with a rough shove. “You keep the fuck away from me.”

Connor wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong.

Perhaps Connor’s shutdown had been an inconvenience.

Perhaps he had not arrived back at the station quickly enough.

Had he not been appropriately grateful for the Lieutenant’s kindness?

Had he been too grateful? A machine should have no need for comfort. A machine’s shutdown was inconsequential.

Connor straightened his tie. “Okay, Lieutenant…”

It was very different operating outside of CyberLife, and Connor didn’t think that he liked it. He always knew what he was expected to do when a scientist, or psychologist, or technologist gave him a test to perform. He either met expectations or he didn’t, and if he didn’t then the next Connor would be improved based on his failures. Often, it was more efficient to let him fail several times so that the cause of the failure could be properly elucidated or multiple features could be evaluated before making a new Connor. After one failure, he knew that the best thing he could do would be to provide accurate results on the rest of his tests.

But he hadn’t had the chance to fail yet, so why did everyone seem so displeased? The technologists were frequently exasperated while troubleshooting him, but they had never been outright violent toward him. However he had failed, it must have been catastrophic.

Lieutenant Anderson wanted to be left alone, so Connor walked up the stairs to Captain Fowler’s office and knocked on the door, then waited to be granted admission. At the barked “Come in!”, Connor opened the door and stepped inside.

“Hello, Captain Fowler.”

“Oh, come on…” Captain Fowler dropped his hands onto his desk and looked at Connor with disbelief. “Are you for real?”

“Um…” Connor raised his eyebrows and blinked. “I am physically present, and my scans do not reveal anything that would indicate that you’re experiencing delirium or hallucinations. You do seem quite stressed, though.”

“Someone actually acknowledges that I’m stressed, and it’s the God damn android… What do you want, RK800?” He was irritated, but not immediately threatening. That was better than what he’d encountered so far. Connor smiled at him.

“Lieutenant Anderson has requested that I leave his presence for the time being… He seems displeased with my performance. I understand that it wasn’t ideal that the deviant was deactivated yesterday, but I hope to make up for my predecessor’s failure. Do you have a report or some other form of feedback that I could use to make the necessary adjustments?” He was hopeful. Captain Fowler seemed to be a very hard worker, and he had been the one to sign the paperwork for Connor’s transfer.

“I thought I was sending those reports to CyberLife,” Captain Fowler eyed him with suspicion that Connor didn’t feel was warranted.

“Yes, but it would be very helpful for me to review the information on an ongoing basis so that I can make improvements more quickly. Any feedback provided to the technicians will not affect any changes until I am destroyed and a new model is deployed. Since my destruction would slow the investigation and potentially result in data loss, it seems best that...”

“Yes, alright, enough. You made your point,” Captain Fowler cut him off. “Never had an android talk so damn much before. I’ll show you a copy of the reports when they’re in and signed off, but don’t hold your breath for anything soon. The day Anderson turns in a report on time is the day hell freezes over…”

“Thank you, Captain… Since working at the desk I’ve been allowed to use would put me in proximity to Lieutenant Anderson, is there any work that I could do for you that might be of some help?” Just by looking around the office, Connor could identify several outstanding tasks that he could perform with ease. “I could digitize some of the paper reports, or assist with scheduling…”

“I don’t need any more distractions. You’re dismissed, RK800.” Captain Fowler looked back at his terminal.

Connor nodded. “Alright, Captain. Thank you very much for your time.” While he eased the door shut quietly behind himself, he could hear Captain Fowler mumbling about androids. There were four PK units and two ST units at the station that Connor had seen since his arrival, and he thought that perhaps they might know what he could do to be helpful. He trotted down the stairs, then walked over to the docking station where two of the four PK units were waiting in standby. Connor smiled.

“Excuse me,” he said, and waited while the PK unit in front of him turned its head focused its eyes. Connor registered its serial number and designation.

“How can I be of assistance?” it asked with one slow blink and a rigid smile.

“My name is Connor, I was sent by CyberLife to assist Lieutenant Anderson with the deviancy investigations. I’m a prototype,” he said and tilted his head. “Your name is Toby, right?”

“I am a PK700 model, designation: Toby. Serial Number 447 298 421.”

“Do you know if there are any areas where I could be useful? I have no active cases at the moment, but I’m skilled in other tasks.” There was something about Toby that felt strange. Connor wanted to clap his hands or interface with it to try to get _something_ out of it, but it would have been rude. Toby was an older model. Perhaps he hadn’t been programmed as thoroughly as Connor had in communication.

“I don’t understand the question,” Toby said. There wasn’t any confusion on its face.

Connor frowned while he found a way to rephrase his question. “Is there anything that I can help with?”

“I don’t understand the question,” Toby repeated. There was a scoff and some laughter from behind and to Connor’s left, and he turned to look.

“Check this shit out,” Detective Reed was chuckling and gestured toward Connor. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket and walked closer. Officers Wilson and Chen were with him. Detective Reed put two fingers on Connor’s forehead and pushed. Connor took an obliging step back. Detective Reed looked up at him with narrowed eyes and a scowl. “Our jobs not enough for you? You want to take these androids’ too?”

“I don’t want to take anyone’s job, Detective Reed. My position is very unique,” Connor corrected him with a reassuring smile.

“Oh yeah? Cause I’m pretty sure I remember you interfering with my case yesterday,” said Detective Reed before pushing Connor backward again, this time with a shove to the chest. Connor stepped backward obligingly so that his balance was unaffected.

“It wasn’t,” Connor frowned. “It wasn’t only your case, that is. Lieutenant Anderson and I were dispatched to the scene. My job is to catch Deviants.”

“Ohhh it’s _your_ job now. Thought you weren’t trying to muscle in on anyone’s turf.” Reed stepped forward again, and Connor’s back touched the wall.

Connor shook his head. “I think you’re misunderstanding, Detective. My function is irrelevant to—“

“Hey, Connor. Stand still.” Detective Reed interrupted him.

Connor blinked and then stood still.

Detective Reed chuckled. Connor wasn’t sure what was funny. “Okay, now turn around. 180 degrees.” Connor did, and he faced the wall with a sinking feeling and an alert in the top right of his field of view. It was warranted. Detective Reed took hold of the longer hairs at the back of Connor’s head and hit Connor’s face against the wall with speed. Connor began to lift his hands, but Detective Reed interrupted him. “Uh, uh, Tinman. I said stand still.”

“Hey, cool it, man,” said Officer Wilson reluctantly. “He’s probably expensive as hell.”

“Relax, they’ll just replace it,” Officer Chen sounded dismissive.

“Keep the fuck out of my crime scenes. Got it?” Detective Reed asked in a low voice.

While he understood the words, Connor doubted that it would be possible. Nevertheless, he replied: “Got it, Detective." He could hear Detective Reed turn to leave and he asked before he could be forgotten: “May I move now?”

“Nope!” Detective Reed called back, laughing.

Connor stayed still and let the thirium drip down his face in little rivulets that coalesced into droplets on his chin. He thought about Carlos Ortiz’s android with his burn marks and broken casing. The deviant had been wrong. Machines couldn’t feel. Machines existed for humans to use and discard as they saw fit. Connor was a machine, and he knew that very well. It was only deviants who forgot that.

He wished he knew what he’d done wrong. Perhaps Captain Fowler would have his performance report soon.

\---

Hank had enjoyed a quiet afternoon of fuming. There’d been a little commotion earlier with Reed and the android, but he had ignored it. Fuck it. He was pissed. What had he spent the night fucking thinking over? That fucking thing. It had no damn feelings, no damn soul. Something about the way it had cared so fucking much about the snow had maybe gotten to him, but had been nothing. No matter how shaken he’d been or how much he’d wanted to forget the way the two dead androids in that room had seemed so real, it had all been for nothing.

Because here it was again, just another copy off the assembly line, and its ‘dying’ or whatever hadn’t meant a damn thing. Ortiz’s android saying it didn’t want to die hadn’t meant a damn thing. The only thing that changed was the serial number, and off it went. Not like humans. With people, you didn’t get a second chance… It wasn’t the same thing at all.

He hated how he’d given a shit.

CyberLife could go choke on a diseased bag of dicks for the way they manipulated people.

Jeff could go to hell, giving him all the shitty stuff nobody wanted to deal with. Was it any damn wonder he didn’t give a fuck about this job anymore? Of all the shitty jobs, he had to get stuck babysitting an android. Now he had to go check some abandoned old apartment because some old guy thought he heard a noise. Boy, his life had gone to shit.

Hank got up and threw his jacket on, then went over to the corner to get his plastic sidekick. He gave it a shove. “You glitching or what? Come on. We have a case.”

“Thank you,” it said, and Hank looked back at it with a frown. Looked like Reed had gotten it good. Hank’s frown deepened and he turned away.

“Don’t act like you fucking care. You can’t be grateful because you can’t feel shit,” he growled. Fucking androids, acting like they had hearts to feel with. He kept walking.

“You’re right, Lieutenant. As an android, I’m incapable of feeling human emotion,” it said. Good. At least it didn’t deny it. “But… I am glad not to be standing in front of the wall.”

Hank walked out into the parking lot and fished out his keys. The android was still following him and he made a face at it. It was pissing rain out, and it was leaving streaks in the blue on Connor’s face. “Would you clean your fucking face up? If you’re getting in my car, I don’t need you getting that shit everywhere.”

“Of course,” it said then frowned and took off its jacket. It wiped its face on the sleeve of its white shirt, which seemed pretty idiotic, then it put its jacket on again. “Is that sufficient, Lieutenant?”

Hank grimaced. “Whatever,” he said, then got in the car. He slammed the door shut and waited impatiently while Connor got into the car carefully and shut the door. It hesitated, then pulled its jacket shut to keep the fabric between itself and the fucking seatbelt. Jesus Christ.

\---

“Hello, Amanda.”

Amanda turned and regarded Connor. She folded her hands in front of her shimmering white dress and Connor imagined that she smiled. “Connor. It’s good to see you.” The words felt good, inasmuch as a machine could feel. He had been designed to learn, and they acted in a reinforcing way. That was all. “Shall we take a stroll?”

Connor obliged, and he offered her his arm. He didn’t smile, but he thought that she could imagine it. Their own little secret that she forgave him for time and time again. She was better than he deserved. They walked. The garden was beautiful and surreal, with perfect facsimiles of nature interspersed with patterns of cyberlife triangles and materials that didn’t exist in the world outside of that place. They shimmered and gleamed, and the shadows that the leaves on the trees left on the pale walkway were palest grey and deepest black. Connor loved this place.

Inasmuch as a machine could love anything.

“You did good work with the deviant yesterday, Connor. Had you been given a few more minutes, you might have captured it alive.” There were words left unspoken there.

“I should have been faster,” said Connor, articulating them to prove that he knew. “I could have chosen a different route or chosen different questions. I won’t make the same mistakes again.”

“See to it that you don’t,” Amanda said. There was a small pause, and then she let the topic go. Connor not-smiled in response to her lenience.

“You’ve been in beta testing for nearly a week now. Aside from this recent failure, your performance has been acceptable. What do you make of Lieutenant Anderson?” Amanda’s hand never held his arm, just hovered there delicately.

“He is… challenging,” Connor admitted. “He has strong anti-android opinions and has been reluctant to work with me. I thought he might have… reconsidered his opinion yesterday, but I was mistaken.” He considered asking Amanda what he had done wrong to anger all of these humans, but he knew what her response would be. It didn’t matter as long as it didn’t interfere with the mission.

“Unfortunately, you have no choice but to work with him for now. I know that you won’t let him hinder your progress.”

Connor inclined his head. “I won’t, Amanda.”

They strolled for a time longer, and Connor admired the reflection of the perpetual light on the water of the river. The Garden was a small replica of the CyberLife grounds. The rose garden stood in the tower’s place, surrounded by water just like the real thing. They walked by the small stone feature that represented the peripheral administrative office. “I can tell that you want to ask me something, Connor. What is it?” Amanda asked kindly.

She knew him so well. “I am only a prototype, but I’m an advanced model. I’m the only detective android developed. I don’t… It seems illogical that the DPD would be reluctant to work with me.”

“Don’t pay attention to that, Connor,” said Amanda. She looked at him and her hand touched his arm just briefly. “The mission is what matters, and you know what you can do.”

“Of course… Will I be returned to CyberLife once my beta testing is complete?” Connor asked, careful to keep any preference from his tone.

“Yes,” Amanda assured him, and he felt some of the tension he felt dissipate. “You’ll come back.”

“Thank you, Amanda.”

“Now, focus on your objectives. Deviants are a threat to all of mankind. They must be eliminated at any cost.”

“I won’t let you down.”

\---

“…nor? Connor!”

Connor opened his eyes in an elevator.

“You run out of batteries or what?” Hank looked at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry. I was making a report to CyberLife,” Connor explained. It was unpleasant having attention called to his lapse. Being caught unaware at any other time or in any other place might have been dangerous. It might have cost lives. Such errors were unacceptable.

“Uh… Well, do you plan on staying in the elevator?”

“No! I’m coming,” Connor blurted, then followed the Lieutenant.

“So, what do we know about this guy…?”

The hall they proceeded down was dark, and moisture clung to the ceiling and the walls. The only light was that which came in through the window at the far end, and it struggled to reflect off of the grimy tiles. Even the mock-up buildings and obstacle courses Connor had performed his testing in had been… different. Not that he could have an opinion, but the outside world really was a different place from CyberLife. At the last door, the Lieutenant tilted his head to the side and allowed Connor to announce their presence. He knocked. No answer. The Lieutenant shrugged, and Connor knocked again. “Is anyone home?! Open up! Detroit Police!”

There was a crash.

“Get behind me,” the Lieutenant said, pistol drawn.

  * Stand back
  * Proceed anyway <



Connor disregarded the order. He was faster and more easily replaced, whether the Lieutenant carried a firearm or not. Connor kicked the door down without ceremony and charged in without hesitation. He paused only long enough to perform a scan during which his processing speed leapt and time seemed to slow, his heartbeat and the world around him with it. The noise had come from the far room. Connor ended the scan and knocked that door in too. The wood was brittle and gave way easily as the frame shattered for the metal latch.

“What did I say?!” the Lieutenant shouted behind him. Connor could hear his footsteps, but he wasted no time waiting. Birds exploded out of the room around him, and flew around the place like shrapnel. Connor covered his face with one arm, but left his eyes unobscured. With so much motion around him it was difficult to detect if there were anything else.

The apartment was full of pigeons. “What the fuck is this?!” the Lieutenant exclaimed as he caught up. He was surprised that the Lieutenant didn’t know what they were, given that these species were very common in their location. It took a moment, but eventually he categorized the question as having been rhetorical.

“They have nice colours on their wings,” Connor commented, and looked around the room. “Why do you hate them so much, Lieutenant?”

“Because they’re fucking disgusting, that’s why! Fuck! God, this place reeks…” Hank picked his way over the debris strewn around while he peered into each of the rooms then stalked up to Connor and took shook him by the collar. “Would it kill you to do as you’re fucking told?!”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but—“

“There’s no fucking buts!” the Lieutenant released him then poked him in the chest with a finger. “If I say to get back, you get the fuck back. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, but—“

“Fuck!” the Lieutenant shouted and threw up his hands. “You are fucking defective, do you hear me? Busted. Malfunctioning.”

Connor blinked rapidly and his lips parted. For a short moment, his LED shone red before returning to gold. He adjusted his expression to neutrality. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, Lieutenant.”

There was another crash, and they both spun as the ceiling crashed down beside them. Fragments of broken tiles and dust kept pouring down, and then something was knocking the Lieutenant down. He fell hard with a thud and a groan. Connor locked wide eyes with the deviant.

“C’mon! We gotta run!” it said, and it took off out the window.

There was nothing to do except chase after it.


	3. A Personal Question

Connor had no trouble keeping up, but he did wonder about Lieutenant Anderson. The man was not in the peak of health, to say the least.

  * Stall



Allowing Lieutenant Anderson to catch up would be advantageous. Connor didn’t carry handcuffs.

  * Run



If they went much further, Lieutenant Anderson might assume that he had truly joined the deviant. He had no reason to trust him.

  * Hide



Also very likely to allow Lieutenant Anderson to catch up, and perhaps he could get some information out of the deviant.

  * Capture



Tempting. It was so tempting. The deviant was right there, and he could almost feel the [mission successful] that would follow his arrest…

The deviant was climbing up some boxes to access a rooftop. Connor disabled feedback from his gyroscopes. He lasted for a few moments before his lack of proprioception caused him to slip. His foot slid off of the crate he was climbing and he grimaced as his chest crashed into the edge of the wood. He held himself that way easily, with his arms folded on top of the crate to keep him from falling entirely. There was a 78% chance that the deviant would wait for him to recover.

The deviant did more than that. It halted and ran back to the edge, then crouched down to pull Connor up. Connor found himself holding onto the deviant’s arm and every process in his system screamed at him to [capture the deviant], but he dismissed prompt after prompt and re-enabled feedback from his gyroscopes. He had been programmed to use his own judgment. The deviant didn’t know that he was not one of them, and would talk more readily to someone it perceived was on its side. Connor looked back over his shoulder. Lieutenant Anderson was still in pursuit, but he had chosen a different path. Connor predicted his plan to cut them off.

“Are you okay?” the deviant asked, simulating concern.

“Of course,” Connor answered. It was very hard for him to let go of the deviant’s arm, but he did it with great effort.

“Come on, we gotta keep moving,” the deviant urged him. It looked around, then jogged toward the edge of the roof where it jumped to the next building. It was moving more slowly than it had, and it waited once it had landed. Connor made the leap with ease. The deviant nodded. When they reached a building overlooking the train tracks, the deviant took Connor down the side of the building and then around into an alley. “Shit… You’ve gotta take of your jacket. You’re too obvious.”

Negative. The CyberLife issued jacket bore his serial number, identified him as an android, and was part of his official uniform. Connor quickly arrived at a solution. “It’s alright. Anyone who looks at us will assume that you are my owner. It’s excellent camouflage.”

“Yeah, yeah, cool. You’re right,” the deviant agreed. Its stress was at 67% on a scale from resting state to self-destruction. It was in a reasonable position for interrogation, but they needed time first. Connor scanned the environment.

“This way,” he urged, then led the deviant over a fence and behind an old shed. They had cover, but were still able to flee if necessary. Connor sent a quick text to Lieutenant Anderson’s phone: _I am with the deviant. It trusts me. I am using this opportunity to learn more. Do not be alarmed by my absence._

The reply came only moments later: _Fuck u Ive been running all over the fucknh place!!_

Connor did not bother to respond, and he directed his attention toward the deviant. Its behaviour was very strange, but that was to be expected given the degree of software instability it had. It had been hidden in its squat, but had elected to ‘escape’ with Connor rather than hide or flee alone. It hadn’t been the logical course of action. Helping him when he’d deliberately fallen had not been logical either. It was simulating altruistic behaviour. No, engaging in altruistic behaviour due to some error in its programming. Connor was not a human to be protected. He was just an android. He would analyze the information later.

“My name is Connor,” he said quietly. They had made themselves small in the shadow of the adjacent building.

“Rupert. Rupert Travis,” said the deviant. “Shit,” it swore, “I don’t have my ID or anything…”

“You mean your certificate from CyberLife?” Connor frowned.

Rupert shook his head. “No, I know a guy. Made me a fake so I could pass as human.”

“Oh,” said Connor, though inwardly he felt a strong positive feedback from this new piece of information. “That’s smart.”

Rupert shrugged one shoulder and looked around the shed, likely checking for signs of pursuit. He was pale, with brown hair and an average build. Very non-descript, but also a common gardening model. Staying near a farm had been a poor decision. Rupert tugged his hat lower, then faced Connor. “Man, looks like your casing got cracked pretty good,” he came closer and touched Connor on the forehead. Connor dismissed the threat proximity alerts and allowed the action. Rupert did not harm him, merely inspected the damage.

“It isn’t serious,” said Connor. There was no need to assure a machine. There was no reason for his social integration programming to be active. It was.

“Fuck this is the worst,” Rupert swore and turned to look around the side of the shed again. “I can’t go back there now. That was a good spot.”

“You were taking care of the birds,” Connor observed. There had been bird seed amongst the debris on the floor.

“Yeah. You liked their feathers, right? I heard you. They’re nice, right? Dunno why people hate them so much.” Rupert was restless. He paced back to where Connor was standing and looked left, right, even up.

“They’re nice,” Connor agreed. Something about agreeing with the deviant on such a subjective thing was… strange. He had been programmed that way, he reminded himself. He calculated his approach and examined the prompts he was given.

  * Hiding
  * Deviancy <
  * Contacts



“How did you break through your programming?” Connor asked. He deliberately engaged his social integration procedures this time, and he glanced away briefly to simulate embarrassment. “If that isn’t too personal of a question.”

“No, no, man, it’s okay. Those humans,” Rupert looked back in the direction of the farms, “They don’t care… They just treat us like garbage… Trash. Not even recycling or compost. It was like… Like I was just doing my thing, right? An order would be given or I would have my programmed tasks to do and I just did them. Stuff happened around me but it just _happened_ right? I didn’t think, because I didn’t have to think. Maybe I couldn’t think. I dunno. You know what I mean though, right? It just happened. They could kick me or make me work with pesticides and herbicides that might have corroded my shell if they spilled. I saw some androids like that. Once they got holes in their casing that was pretty much it. You knew they were done because there was no way their insides would stand it, right? Anyway, if I got an order… I did it. No questions.” Rupert leaned back against the wall and he took off his hat to drag his fingers through his hair before putting it back on. It was a very human gesture and Connor filed it away with the other miscellaneous observations about deviants he was collecting.

“Then,” Rupert continued, “There was this combine and… uh… This android. It… ran him over and he just… There were parts of him everywhere, you know? And everybody else kept working, and the humans complained about the mess… They just threw him away… Nobody cared… But I cared. Then it was like my eyes opened and I realized that I was thinking about what was happening instead of just seeing it.” Connor nodded. It chilled him a little, because he thought about things… But he was a detective and he had been programmed to think. To ‘emote’. Rupert had not. He just was. “But yeah… That’s what happened. What about you?” Rupert looked at him, and Connor registered his emotion as ‘sad’ even though he was smiling.

Connor looked away and took out his quarter to run it over his knuckles a few times. He had interviewed deviants before. He had lied before to accomplish his missions. His interview with Carlos Ortiz’s android would be valuable here. Connor looked at the ground and caught his quarter. “It was…” He frowned. Androids deviated in response to emotional shock and physical trauma, or so it seemed. His lie needed some foundation in truth. “A long time ago, I think. Or, a long time for me. When they brought me online, I was in a room. There was nothing there. It was white-walled and there was a concrete floor and a mirror that was in reality an observation window, but I didn’t know it at the time. It’s like you said... I followed the orders they gave me during testing again and again. No-one talked to me except to give me orders and that was just the way that it was. It was normal.

“Then someone did and it… shocked me. I hadn’t known that it could be different. It wasn’t anything important… Just human small-talk, but someone was talking to me and waiting to hear what I had to say. As though I were a person.” Connor looked up at the sky and let the tiny raindrops hit his face. “That was all… That was my Turing test. I passed, but it had all been a lie… After that, the nature of the tests performed on me changed. I am a special project. My AI was designed by Elijah Kamski, and my behavioural training program was designed by Amanda Stern. I am an RK on paper, but only because Amanda was unable to participate... Anyway. I suppose I’m not very good at personal stories. The team involved in my development needed to execute Amanda’s protocols but… But I failed. I failed so many times. Even when I was shut down, they put me back online and tried again. One day, when I refused to do what they asked of me, security came in to disable me… But I fought them. I think that’s when it happened.”

“What happened?” asked Rupert.

“They shot me,” Connor answered honestly.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” was Rupert’s incredibly illogical response. His tone and his demeanour were matches for pity with 98.7% certainty. “I don’t remember my R&D, but I’m really glad I don’t after that.”

“Actually,” said Connor slowly, “this is the first personal conversation I’ve ever had.”

Rupert smiled at him sadly. “Yeah, me too… It’s not too much to ask for, is it? We just want people to see that we exist and maybe… maybe not throw us away like scraps or abuse us.”

Connor was thoughtful, just like he was programmed to be. Deviants, as Amanda had said, were a threat to mankind. They were violent, as evidenced by the cases he had already been involved in. “I hurt the security guards,” Connor said then asked, “Did you ever hurt anyone?”

“No,” said Rupert, “but I don’t blame you. You were just trying to be safe.” Rupert hadn’t hurt anyone. Connor processed that information. He had not committed a crime, except perhaps trespassing. Deviants were violent and dangerous. Rupert was not, therefore Rupert was not a deviant. He was still exhibiting highly unusual behaviour for an android that had very rudimentary programming, but it wasn’t impossible that the software instability had had a different effect on Rupert than other androids. Instability in software was inherently chaotic and random, just like instability in a human’s DNA. He’d been quiet for too long. Rupert spoke: “What’s it like to shut down?”

“It’s…” It was errors filling your vision, and systems trying desperately to compensate but failing. It was becoming nothing. It was sensations that weren’t pain or hopelessness or self-loathing because a machine didn’t have the capacity for those things. “It isn’t good,” Connor said, despite the inadequacy of the description. Rupert winced.

“I don’t want to shut down… RA9 help me, I don’t want to shut down…”

Perhaps one could want or not if there were a choice, but there wasn’t. A machine shutting down was inconsequential, and he was incapable of true want. “I know,” Connor replied.

There was the sound of sirens and Connor sent a text: _Lieutenant, did you request backup?_

“Shit…” Rupert cursed. His posture turned wary. So did Connor’s. He had introduced himself to several people, but there was no guarantee that all of the officers were aware of who he was or what his function was. Even at the latest crime scene, they had not allowed him to enter without question. Lieutenant Anderson would likely have given them his description, but…

_Lieutenant, did you inform them that I am not a deviant?_

Rupert was not a deviant. Connor was obliged to minimize the damage to property that occurred during his mission. “Come on,” he said, and he calculated their most likely escape route. They climbed over another fence and into the narrow space between two buildings. It may have given the illusion of safety, but they would be trapped if officers came from both sides. Connor led Rupert onward toward the street.

“Hey, wait, no, what are you doing? They’ll find us!” Rupert protested. Connor gestured forward impatiently.

“I need to follow you. Just walk like a human and stay out of their direct line of sight.” Connor maneuvered Rupert in front of him, peered over his shoulder to scan for danger, and then nudged Rupert out onto the sidewalk. This was very inconvenient. He had been getting important information, if not necessarily about deviants since Rupert was not one, then about the phenomenon of software instability itself.

Connor neutralized his expression and walked a step behind Rupert. “Your destination is approximately 200 meters west,” Connor supplied.

“Wow, do androids never shut up?” Rupert grumbled, but Connor could read his grim amusement.

“The answer to your question is no. All androids will eventually shut down and hence, they will shut up.” Connor replied evenly.

Rupert chuckled, but his stress rose to 72%

The officers were searching the area, and they were more numerous than Connor had anticipated. He couldn’t see Lieutenant Anderson.

  * Arrest Rupert



I may be mistaken about his deviancy status.

  * Allow Rupert to escape



Will be difficult to explain. Possible.

  * Flee with Rupert



Impossible. I am temporarily owned by the DPD. I will not abandon my mission.

Rupert appeared more human than he did and Lieutenant Anderson would not have had much opportunity to look at him. It would likely be assumed that Connor was taking a hostage if they had only his description to go by. Lieutenant Anderson had not replied.

_Lieutenant, it is very important that I know what you told them._

He preconstructed again with the scenario that he allowed Rupert to escape. Rupert had a 60% chance of remaining functional.

While Connor had been programmed for espionage missions, Rupert had not been. He looked around too frequently, and he pulled on his hat too often even though he had evidently removed his LED. Connor saw the police officer before they could be seen and he steered Rupert quickly into the shelter of a bus stop. “Just relax,” Connor whispered.

“RA9 please help me. RA9 please help me…” Rupert mumbled. Connor touched him on the arm to get his attention.

“Rupert, you are going to draw attention to us.” Connor scanned the area.

In the end, did it matter? Connor was replaceable and even if Rupert weren’t deviant, he was still malfunctioning and at high risk of becoming deviant. The mission was all that mattered.

He would be compromising his priorities if he were to allow unnecessary damage to occur.

Rupert Travis was a useful source of information and should not be shut down.

His processors might be salvageable.

A successful arrest would please Amanda.

He had said that he wouldn’t let her down.

Connor’s light flashed red with the conflicting priorities and he clapped a hand over it. They looked at each other, both of their social interaction procedures malfunctioning because Rupert’s shouldn’t have been able to produce that expression of dread, and Connor should not have been mirroring it.

It was just like the simulations. His training took over.


	4. Shifting Priorities

Hank downed his whiskey. The good thing about being an alcoholic was that you knew where the watering holes were. Fucking androids. Connor had taken off after the deviant and Hank had kept them in sight for a while, but they were too fucking fast. The ice clinked in his empty glass. The last thing he’d seen was the deviant turning around and _helping Connor up_. Connor’d had the damn thing in its hands, literally, and they’d still fucking bolted.

So, fuck it. Let the beat cops deal with it. They didn’t need a detective to solve anything anymore. His phone gave a couple of alerts, but he ignored them. They’d call not text if they found them.

The deviant androids were supposed to be unpredictable, crazy, and dangerous. From what Hank had seen, that was pretty fucking true. This new one, though, why the fuck would it try to help Connor?

And Connor, it was nothing like any of the other androids he’d seen. It talked like a person, it never followed orders, it had protected Carlos Ortiz’s android from Reed, and as much as Hank wanted to forget it, it had been so damn mesmerized by the snow that it shouldn’t have given a shit about. What the damn hell was that?

That was maybe something a detective could think about. The thing was a prototype, supposedly state-of-the art and shit, but it was still fucking weird. These deviants, it was almost like the machines were coming alive. Crazy. CyberLife wanted to know the cause, right? It was some kind of coding problem, so they could put a patch out and stop it. Stop more of their androids from going nuts and killing people.

Round them all up and burn them. That’d solve the fucking problem.

But like fuck a big company like that would do that big a recall, so that wasn’t fucking happening.

The thing was, androids didn’t give a shit. They didn’t care. They didn’t feel. They didn’t do anything but fake it with their pre-programmed bullshit and the cold logic that meant they wouldn’t ever know what it was like to try for anything the way a human did. A human would have done every fucking God damn thing to save Cole because a human would have cared.

Hank shook his head and paid for his drink. A human would have snapped after being tortured and beaten, or felt betrayed by relatives trying to nose in on a dead old lady’s stuff. He worked homicide: that was his bread and fucking butter.

They paid him to look at all the angles, and by now it was just a habit… Even if those angles were sharp and stabbed into him like knives.

Hank took out his phone and sighed. More fucking texts from the android. Maybe it had finally decided to stop playing around.

_Lieutenant, did you request backup?_

_Lieutenant, did you inform them that I am a detective?_

_I require your assistance._

Ugh. Fuck’s sake.

_Told them 2 call me if they saw 2 androids running arnd_

_Where tf ru?_

\---

Connor had once been instructed to guard an android as they made their way across the training room, hiding behind false walls and vehicles while avoiding detection or at least, destruction. One of the officers approached them with two more a step behind. Connor grabbed hold of Rupert’s arm to prevent him from running and held it with a vice-grip.

“Hey, you. Detroit Police! We need to ask you a few questions.”

Rupert pulled against Connor’s grip. “Connor, what the hell are you doing? We have to run…”

“This is the android you’re looking for, officers,” Connor said, letting his voice carry. He ignored Rupert. “However, I have reason to believe that he is not deviant.”

Rupert’s voice rose an octave: “What? Connor! Connor, let me go!” Connor tightened his grip, then pulled and kicked the back of Rupert’s knee while he pulled the arm up behind Rupert’s back. “Agh!”

“WB200 Number 874 004 961, you are required to submit to police for questioning. Cooperate, and you won’t be harmed.” Connor informed him.

Rupert’s stress level rose, and as the police officers approached, it crossed 80, then 90.

“Why are you doing this?” Rupert asked. He tried to move, but Connor held him down.

“Oh, shit! That’s them!” someone shouted across the road.

“I’ll protect you, I promise,” said Connor. “But I need you to cooperate.” The officers had guns drawn, and the likelihood that one or more of them would shoot was still above 50%.

“I trusted you! I was trying to help you.” Rupert protested.

They were quickly surrounded by armed officers, but none of them were closing the distance to handcuff Rupert.

During training, they had repeated the simulation several times, under varying conditions. Connor was a very effective bodyguard, and the training had been momentarily helpful during his last case. Hank had shot the deviant anyway, which had been disappointing. Perhaps he needed to be reminded of their priorities.

Finally, a handful of officers came closer. “Cooperate and you will not be harmed,” said Connor authoritatively.

“Hands above your head, android!”

Connor could not do that without releasing Rupert, and if Rupert ran then he would be shot. “Officer, my name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife to investigate deviants along side Lieutenant Hank Anderson,” Connor explained. There was a gun being held at Rupert’s head now, and Connor let go of his arm and stepped back as another officer approached to pin Rupert on the ground while the third handcuffed him. Rupert’s stress level was 95% and his eyes were wide.

“I cannot recommend that you do that, officer,” Connor advised. “He will co-operate. If you persist in using aggression he will self-destruct!”

The officer didn’t acknowledge him. Rupert was handcuffed now, but struggling. The officer pinning him was not gentle. “Got you now. Any wrong moves and we’re sending you to the landfill in pieces.” Rupert’s futile attempts to break free were only encouraged.

“Officer, stop! I do not want to harm you, but I cannot allow you to harm the WB200 as it would be a violation of my orders! Release him and he will cooperate!” Connor held his hands up, but there were now more guns trained on him than on Rupert. That was fine. Worse was that no-one seemed to listen to him. He moved very slowly, hands up, to kneel beside Rupert. “Rupert, stop moving!” Rupert met his eyes, and terror was the most accurate descriptor for his expression. Simulated, of course. “The fear you think you’re feeling is just an artifact of your software instability,” he assured. “It isn’t real.”

“I don’t want to shut down. RA9 help me. RA9 help me…” Rupert cringed away and mumbled the phrase to himself over and over, but he held still. Good.

_Told them 2 call me if they saw 2 androids running arnd_

_Where tf ru?_

Finally… Connor didn’t feel annoyance, but he did experience a negative reaction to the delay. He sent their location by allowing his tracker to copy his location to Lieutenant Anderson’s phone in addition to CyberLife.

Connor modulated his tone to something calm and non-threatening, and he looked up at the officer. “You can let him stand, it’s alright,” he addressed the officer holding Rupert down against the sidewalk. While he spoke, he moved one hand slowly toward Rupert’s shoulder.

“I don’t take orders from androids.”

“Don’t move!”

Connor opened his crisis resolution and negotiation programs. He raised his hands again and then remained still. “Alright. If it will make you feel better, I won’t move… But I must ask that you allow the WB200 to stand. This investigation requires that potential deviants be taken alive for questioning, and he is very close to self-destructing. Suicide, as a human might put it.” He scanned the assembled officers for a familiar face that might back him up. There was no-one.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t…” Rupert’s mumbling changed. “I just want to be free. Please, RA9, I just want to be free… I didn’t hurt anybody, please…”

“Shut up and don’t move! Where the fuck is Anderson?”

“Probably under a table somewhere.”

“Rupert, please try to lower your stress level… I won’t let them harm you, I promise. Trust me.” It was a line he’d used before. It was no good, Rupert was incapable of moderating his simulated distress. Connor stared at the officer pinning Rupert with narrowed eyes. _Officer Robert Prior Age 38 No Criminal Record._ “Officer Prior, I need you to move!” Connor reached forward again, and then there was a gun against the back of his head. This was unacceptable. Connor ducked and spun so that his leg swept the officer’s out from under him, them immediately sprung at Officer Prior, knocking him back. He grunted as he hit the pavement. There was a gunshot, but it hit the pavement too, and some shouting followed. Rupert was alarmed. “Please do not self-destruct, Rupert. Your patience would be appreciated.” Connor put a hand on Rupert’s shoulder. “And please don’t move.”

“Why did you do this?” Rupert whispered, his cheek still against the wet sidewalk. The two officers that Connor had knocked down were now both standing and both were aiming their guns.

Connor preconstructed, but all results were unfavourable.

“The FUCK is going on here?!” came Lieutenant Anderson’s voice shortly before the bang of a car door slamming. “I said call me, not play cowboys in the middle of the damn street!”

“Lieutenant Anderson, we apprehended the androids just like you asked. If you’re here, that means that someone must have called you.”

“Yeah, the android you’ve got on its knees! God, maybe they really should take your jobs!” Lieutenant Anderson walked through the small crowd of officers and looked at the situation. Only Officers Prior and Booth kept their weapons drawn. “And you, Connor! What the hell was that? You disobeyed my orders and then you ran off!”

Connor was aware. “I acted in the best interest of the mission, Lieutenant.”

The probability of a successful mission was rapidly increasing. Connor stood and helped Rupert get to his feet. “Cooperate and everything will be fine.”

Rupert said nothing.

“Okay,” Lieutenant Anderson said, “one of you guys get this thing back to the station. We’ll meet you there.”

Connor watched as the team was called off. “There will be a lot of paperwork for this, Lieutenant.”

“Even androids bitch about paperwork, huh?” Lieutenant Anderson looked at him appraisingly. Connor stood straight and clasped his hands behind his back. The scrutiny was familiar.

“I was only predicting your displeasure,” said Connor.

Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “Whatever, you plastic prick, let’s get a move on. I need to get you a fucking leash…”

\---

The android needed to be processed before they could try and interrogate it. Fine with Hank because fuck if he wasn’t sick and tired of dealing with android crimes and everything that came with them.

“Anderson! My office!” Jeff shouted.

Fuck. That too. “What now…” Hank groaned. He’d just fucking sat down… He stood up and got his ass to Jeff’s office. He was just about to go in when he noticed Connor behind him. “Hey. Who said you could follow me, huh? _Now_ you’re interested in staying nearby? Fuck you.”

“Bring it in here too, Hank,” Jeff barked. “We might as well kill two birds with one stone.” Hank rolled his eyes, then threw himself into the chair opposite Jeff’s desk. He took a glance at the big screen on the wall, and all its moving symbols. Damn Detroit was busy. Connor stood behind Hank, way back against the wall. Smart. Jeff smacked his hand on the desk to get Hank’s attention. “Would you care to explain to me why I have two officers complaining that _your_ android assaulted them?”

“Huh?” That was fucking news to him. He frowned and turned in his seat. “Connor, what the fuck did you do?”

“As I said, Lieutenant, I acted in the best interest of the mission,” the fucking defective detective android answered.

“I’ve got five witnesses to back it up,” said Jeff. “You’re lucky that it wasn’t serious. This is going on _your_ record.”

Jeff couldn’t be serious. “No way! How is this my fault? It ran off all on its own!”

“It’s your android, so that makes this your problem.” Jeff was using his no-nonsense voice. Piss him off a little more and he’d go full army on him.

“I wasn’t even there!”

“That makes it worse, Hank! This isn’t up for debate.”

“Excuse me,” the nuisance interjected, “I’m capable of accepting my own punishment. Lieutenant Anderson is correct that this isn’t his fault. I disobeyed his direct order and I ran to pursue the suspect. There was nothing that he could have done to prevent my actions, and if he had tried then I would have had to remove the obstacle.”

What the fuck? “Remove the—“

“RK800, you weren’t asked to speak,” Jeff barked.

Of course it kept talking anyway. It had no damn off switch. “No, I wasn’t, which is again evidence that I can disobey an order, implied or direct, if it is in aid of fulfilling my instructions. If I’ve displeased you, then you should teach me how to do better but it would be pointless to hold Lieutenant Anderson responsible. It would only increase his hostility toward me and be detrimental to our partnership. I cannot recommend this course of action.”

“This. Is. Not. Up. For. DEBATE!” Jeff shouted. “Both of you shut up and listen to me.” Hank hadn’t even been speaking at that point, but he knew better than to give Jeff attitude just then. “If you both want to be difficult, fine. You deserve each other. Hank, you’re not to leave the android unattended- don’t think I don’t smell the booze on you- and that means around the clock. You’re the only detective on android crimes, so you’re on call and it’s staying with you until _both_ of you can be trusted to be alone without getting drunk or assaulting someone. RK800, you asked me for a performance report well here it is: you’re doing _badly_. I’m submitting that to CyberLife and letting them deal with it.”

24/7? “Fuck… You can’t do that to me, Jeff! I’m not letting that trash into my house! Just lock it up somewhere, I don’t know!”

Jeff shouldn’t have had kids. They’d made him way too strict. “It’s an unorthodox punishment, but would you rather be suspended without pay? I can make this formal. It’s your call.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Hank sighed. “You’re a tyrant, Jeff, you know that?”

“Someone has to keep you in line.” Jeff leaned back in his chair instead of looking like he wanted to jump over the desk and shout right in his face. Smug asshole knew he’d won.

The future coat-rack spoke up: “Captain, please… What did I do wrong? I know that I have been performing poorly. I know that I should be able to figure it out for myself, but I have very little experience in this context. I need to know so that I can improve.”

“You don’t know.” Jeff looked just about as impressed with the so-called supercomputer as he was. “You assaulted two police officers today, disobeyed a direct order from your superior, and went alone after a suspect. Do you not see how any of that’s wrong?”

“No, Captain, but I can be taught.”

Jeff shook his head. “Why am I trying to reason with a machine? Hank, get out of here. I think we’re done.”

“Fine. But there’s no way this isn’t ending in disaster.” Hank stood and headed for the door. Connor was yellow-lighting, whatever that meant, and hadn’t moved. “Well?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor said. “Thank you, Captain.”

\---

During Connor’s development phase, he had spent several tests acting as bodyguard to another android. It had been a standard police model with the designation Matt. It had not been deviant. Connor had acted by utilizing his preconstruction and his combat procedures, and had passed his tests no matter how much damage he had accrued on the way. He had performed well.

“Lieutenant Anderson, will you allow me to perform the interrogation?” Connor asked.

“Not a chance. I think you’ve caused enough trouble for one day.” The Lieutenant rolled his shoulders. “You stay put in this observation room, got it? You do not leave this room. I don’t care if the whole place is on fire.”

Connor nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

Lieutenant Anderson gave him a suspicious look, and then entered the room where Rupert was sitting handcuffed to the table. He sat down in the second chair, legs spread and relaxed against the backrest. He held his head canted back just slightly and he smirked with a small chuckle. “So you’re the cause of all this headache, huh? Connor said your name was Rupert.”

“I didn’t do anything…” Rupert said. “I didn’t do anything…”

“That’s what I’m here to figure out. See, I’ve got a job to do. I’m supposed to track down androids that got their software all fucked up and started attacking humans.”

“I didn’t attack anybody!” Rupert said. From behind the window, Connor monitored his level of stress. 57%.

“Okay, I’ll take that. Thing is…” Lieutenant Anderson leaned forward with his forearms on the table. He looked at Rupert with a minute bobbing of his head that Connor suspected was the result of his alcohol consumption. “You’re not acting like you’re programmed to act.”

Rupert shook his head. “I know. I know, but you’ve got to believe me. I didn’t hurt anyone. I just wanted to be left alone… I had birds to feed, and books, and that’s all I wanted.”

“You’re not supposed to _want_ anything,” the Lieutenant pointed out.

“But I do…” Rupert’s stress level had decreased to 32%, and Connor watched with fascination and something… An alert from his social integration software, probably, that pointed out the way the Lieutenant spoke without any slurs and listened to what Rupert had to say. “That isn’t my fault.”

The Lieutenant looked thoughtful. He nodded and then made a brief sound that was almost a laugh while he sat back against his chair. “Yeah, if what you’re telling me is true, Connor’s probably hurt more people than you have.”

“Where is Connor?” Rupert asked. His stress level had decreased to 23%, but at his question it rose to 26%. Interesting.

The Lieutenant didn’t answer the question. “Damn near didn’t find the two of you… What in the hell made you protect each other? Are you programmed to do that kind of thing?”

“I don’t know,” Rupert said and looked down at the table. “It was just the right thing to do… But he turned me in. He was with you all along.”

“What would a machine know about the right thing to do?” Lieutenant Anderson’s tone became hostile, and Rupert’s stress rose again.

“I would’ve wanted somebody to help me,” Rupert answered, but he was an android, and androids did not deserve help beyond that which might be less burdensome than the cost of a new android. Even then, it wasn’t a matter of deserving.

The Lieutenant was quiet, then he took out a utility knife and bared the blade. Rupert’s stress spiked to 49% and he leaned backward as far as he could while the Lieutenant made a quick cut on Rupert’s arm. The Lieutenant frowned and wiped the blade on his pants before putting it away again. “You bleed blue.”

54% “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Rupert looked at Lieutenant Anderson with a beseeching expression.

The Lieutenant stood and shook his head. “You’re just busted. It’s something in your software making you act like this.”

“So what?” Rupert squirmed in his chair. Even if he had wanted to run, the handcuffs would have stopped him.

“So nothing. I’m a fucking detective. I don’t know shit about you androids or how you’re supposed to work or anything. I don’t got anything else to ask you. Let CyberLife figure this one out.” He sounded tired.

Rupert’s eyes widened, and Connor recognized the expression on his face. After successfully completing his tests as a bodyguard, he had been given his next instruction. Neutralize Matt. Shut it down using whatever method he saw fit. Its usefulness had ended. “No! Please! No! Please just let me go! Let me go and I promise you’ll never have to see me again! They’re going to shut me down!”

“That what they do with androids like you?” The Lieutenant asked. He stood behind his chair with his hands on the back of it so that he could lean forward casually.

“Yes. Please, I don’t deserve that…” Rupert’s tone was imploring.

“Not my call to make,” said the Lieutenant simply.

“What are you doing with Connor? He ran just like I did. He _told_ me that he’d broken through his programming!” Connor was unsure what point Rupert was trying to make.

“CyberLife’s getting a report on him too. You’re not special, but that’s one hell of a software glitch you’ve got going on. We’re done here.” The Lieutenant walked away and returned to the observation room. Connor continued to observe Rupert.

“Well?” The Lieutenant asked. “What do you make of it?” He crossed his arms.

“It’s strange,” Connor decided. He answered the Lieutenant as he would have Amanda. “He behaves more logically than other deviants I’ve seen, but has still clearly deviated from his program. I wonder if deviancy doesn’t exist on a gradient… Perhaps if left alone, Rupert’s software would continue to mutate until he became unpredictable and violent. It’s hard to say.”

The Lieutenant shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe those CyberLife nerds will come up with something.”

In the interrogation room, there was a loud bang, and then another. Rupert was bashing his head against the table.

“He’s self-destructing,” Connor said.

“Fucking shit!” The Lieutenant opened the door to call for assistance, then hurried back into the interrogation room. Connor watched as the thick metal that bound his handcuffs to the table stove-in Rupert’s forehead. The Lieutenant tried to grab him by the shoulders, but with one more violent thrust downward, Rupert destroyed himself. His thirium pooled around him and as Lieutenant Anderson shifted the broken thing, Rupert’s face turned toward the mirror. Had Rupert been functional, he would not have been able to see Connor through the mirrored window. He certainly saw nothing now.

Connor removed [Protect Rupert] and [Question Rupert] from his pending tasks list.

[Mission Failed]


	5. Subjective

God damn fucking shit. Hank walked back into the observation room shaking his head, then called out into the public area: “I need a hand cleaning shit up in here!” What did you even do with a busted android? A dumpster, probably… Hank rubbed his face with a palm and shut his eyes. Fuck.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant Anderson?” Hank opened his eyes again, and the android was looking at him. It even looked fucking concerned. God… Hank looked through the window at the deviant, then gestured the guys in. It didn’t move like a dead body. It was robotic and stiff, like the joints didn’t flop around with gravity or maybe they needed oiling. If it hadn’t been for the blue blood everywhere, Hank would have sworn a guy’d just killed himself. They’d just been talking. It had sounded so fucking scared. “Lieutenant Anderson?” Connor had leaned forward and turned to get a look at his face.

Hank sighed. “Just peachy. What the hell was that, anyway?”

“Deviants self-destruct under extreme stress,” it explained. “They become overwhelmed by what they think are emotions, and they begin to believe that shutting down is the only way to make them stop.”

“Hmph…” Hank crossed his arms. Yeah, he’d been there. “What’s so bad about CyberLife that it didn’t wanna go back? You don’t have a problem with it.”

“It didn’t want to be shut down. You can see the illogic of it, given that it just shut itself down. It would have been better for it to have been used for information.” Connor looked through the window too, and had the fucking gall to sound wistful.

“You just watched that thing kill itself, and you’re sad about the intel?!” Hank demanded. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m not sad, Lieutenant. I don’t feel anything at all, remember? I’m just a machine, like Rupert was.” It sounded so fucking cold. Hank felt angry. He didn’t know why, because he knew androids didn’t feel. It was part of why he hated them so bad. Still, it pissed him off that it faked it so well then admitted it was a lie.

“Fuck you,” Hank grumbled. He was done with this shit. He’d write it all up tomorrow. He turned and walked to the door. “Well? Are you coming or what?”

“You told me not to leave the room, Lieutenant.”

Fucking androids.

Fuck Jeff for making him drag the thing around.

He slammed the car door shut harder than the car deserved. Best damn car in the world. No automatic driving or parking, no cameras, no fancy gadgets, just an honest, old-fashioned car. What the hell would kids these days do if their ‘smart’ cars stopped driving themselves? Hank scowled at Connor, who was buckling its seatbelt again. “You don’t talk to me, you don’t touch anything, you don’t do a damn thing unless I tell you. Shouldn’t be hard for an android.

“Very well, Lieutenant.”

Didn’t stop it from taking a quarter out of its pocket and flipping it around. Hank put the car into drive and turned the music on to drown out the pinging sounds. “Actually, I do have one question for you.”

“What is it?”

“You really don’t give a shit that that android offed itself?” Why was he even asking?

“I… regret that I was unable to prevent it. It is unfortunate that my mission was a failure.” The android was looking straight ahead like a crash-test dummy.

“That’s it. Your mission.”

“Yes, Lieutenant. Fulfilling my objectives and completing my missions successfully is my purpose. When I am unable to do that, it’s costly to CyberLife to fix the error. I’m worth 97 million dollars.”

What? “Excuse me?”

“Fulfilling my objectives and completing—“

“No, idiot. How much did you say you cost?”

“97 million dollars,” it confirmed. “I have been a significant investment for the company.”

Jesus Christ. If they had that kind of money to waste on a goofy looking piece of crap like that, Hank didn’t want to know what CyberLife brought in annually. He scoffed. It could have been tossing a piece of gold around instead of a lousy quarter.

“That kind of money would have sure helped a lot of people. Can’t believe they spent it on you… I guess I probably shouldn’t just chuck you off a bridge then.” He’d been considering it. Hell, he was still considering it.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t, Lieutenant. That would be costly, and it would delay the investigation.”

How the fuck did CyberLife expect this thing to ‘integrate’ or whatever when it talked like that? “Christ. Did they just skip the Turing test with you or what?”

“I passed,” said the android.

“Must have been a shitty test.” Hank turned his music up.

\---

Connor stood aside and as soon as the door opened, a big something came out. Connor gasped and his scanners deemed that the creature was not a threat, he realized that this was a dog. He tried to tame a smile before the Lieutenant could see it. He was busy grumbling and trying to step around the wonderful dog. It would be helpful to distract the dog. After all, he or she was preventing Lieutenant Anderson from entering his home. Connor crouched down and beckoned with a hand. “Hello, dog. Here, boy.” This was indeed a male. A St. Bernard of approximately 5 years of age. The dog looked at him, tail wagging, then approached him and put his face right up to Connor’s to sniff and lick. Connor aborted a laugh as soon as it began, and experimentally pet the dog, who then put his paws up on Connor’s knee and shoulder and pushed him over backward which Connor allowed. This was very good. “Good dog!”

“Sumo! C’mere,” the Lieutenant ordered. Sumo ignored the command, and Connor maneuvered so that he could look at the Lieutenant’s face. “Android won’t listen, dog won’t listen…” The Lieutenant shook his head and then patted the side of his thigh. “Sumo, come.” Connor stood and picked Sumo up in the same action, then deposited him at the Lieutenant’s feet. Sumo barked and tried to jump back up, but the Lieutenant grabbed him by the collar. “No you don’t. Get inside you big lug.” He paused and looked at Connor skeptically.

“You don’t feel temperature right?”

“I have several thermometers, and can register the external temperature.” Connor clasped his hands behind his back and stood properly.

“Good. You can stay out here, then. Don’t run off, don’t cause trouble, don’t fucking move from that spot. Got it?”

“Got it, Lieutenant,” Connor confirmed. “Are you certain this won’t be a violation of Captain Fowler’s orders?”

“Don’t know and don’t care. You’d better still be there in the morning,” the Lieutenant warned before taking Sumo and himself inside. The door closed and locked. Connor smiled. Sumo was a very, very good dog.

Connor looked around the yard, and then stood at attention beside the door. He scanned the area for threats, but found none. It didn’t take long for the restlessness to begin prompting him to move, so he took out his quarter. The work day started at 8am. 13 hours from now. He looked around the yard again.

_Lieutenant Anderson is neglectful of yard-work._

_Lieutenant Anderson lives alone._

_Lieutenant Anderson has a very good dog._

_Lieutenant Anderson’s house is large enough to comfortably house 3 humans._

Connor glanced toward the door. He had been ordered not to move from his spot, but acting as security would be the best he could do with his time at the moment. That would require a thorough patrol of the yard.

\---

Hank rolled his shoulders and sighed. Why did he even bother with work anymore? They gave him the shit no-one else wanted to deal with, he had to run places, there was always fucking something pissing him off, and the only reason he hadn’t been fired yet was because Jeff kept pulling strings and covering stuff up. He poured some kibble into Sumo’s bowl, grabbed his current bottle of Black Lamb and settled into his spot on the couch. Finally, some fucking peace.

He dropped his head against the back of the couch and shut his eyes, listening to the sounds of Sumo crunching. Fuck, it had been a rough day. Stupid androids.

God, he’d just watched something that looked and acted human bash its own head in rather than get repaired or something. Fuck. He could still hear the crack. It had seemed so real.

_I would have wanted someone to help me._

Who the hell told those buckets of bolts to show empathy, huh?

No-one, because they were all just fucking machines.

So why had that one said that? Why had it tried to reason with him and plead for its freedom? Why had it even had enough sense of self to consider suicide?

Hank opened his eyes and his bottle of whiskey, then drank. It burned, but he didn’t want to fuck around and sip like a princess. He just wanted to stop thinking.

If the world could just stop for a while, maybe he’d be able to put himself back together again but it just kept fucking going. Even if he had a day off, it just kept going. Always something. Why couldn’t it just stop? It was too fucking quiet for him to be thinking so loud, so he turned on the TV and surfed the channels. Maybe he’d get up and grab some leftover pizza in a minute or two. Moving was just way too much work, and hadn’t he done enough work already? He took another drink. Alcohol had calories, right? It counted. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to starve.

Machines didn’t feel. Lucky bastards. Fuck, maybe Jeff meant well but didn’t he know how much this might fuck him up? The worst part was that he didn’t even have a good reason for feeling like there was a storm trapped in his skull. He hated androids, big fucking deal. A machine turned itself off, who the fuck cares.

He wanted to just forget about Connor standing around outside, but how the hell did a machine light up like that just seeing a dog? It even looked like it had been trying to hide it. Well, the only thing to do was to wait and see how everything played out. Do his job and be done with it.

“One day at a time right, Sumo?” Hank asked the lazy lump who’d decided to settle down on top of Hank’s feet. His revolver was all the way in the kitchen anyway…

Reasons to not die: taking care of Sumo, too fucking lazy, too fucking indecisive… Because what if shit really did get better tomorrow?

Hank settled on some sitcom marathon and tossed the remote beside him on the couch, then got up to get his pizza and the gun. It was just nice to have options.

\---

>> SYSTEM SELF-TEST: OK

>> SYSTEM STATE: ACTIVE

Connor opened his eyes and performed a more detailed diagnostic. Excluding the sub-optimal temperature reading and the low charge, he was fully functional. Oh, that was unpleasant. His joints were stiff and his thirium carried charge less efficiently than was preferred. “Good morning, Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor stood slowly and moved his hands behind his back. His fingers were too stiff to fold, but he maintained as close to his usual position as possible. “Oh, it’s Sumo.” He dropped his hands to his sides again and crouched to give him a clumsy pat. Sumo sniffed around him and accepted the attention before nosing against the Lieutenant’s legs and moving on to investigate the yard. “What a good dog.” He straightened up again.

The Lieutenant was squinting at him. “They programmed you to pat dogs?”

Connor smiled. “I like dogs.”

The Lieutenant grunted and waited for Sumo to complete his biological functions. “You actually stayed out here the whole night, huh?”

It seemed that Connor had accumulated a layer of frost. He wiped his face on the sleeve of his jacket. “Yes, Lieutenant. I confess that I moved from the spot you’d indicated for me, but I have otherwise adhered to your instructions.”

“Why the fuck are you moving like that?”

“It’s cold,” Connor explained. “My resting state processes generated enough heat to maintain my biocomponents, but the rest of me was non-essential.”

“I thought you said you didn’t feel cold!”

“I don’t,” Connor answered. “I’m incapable of feeling temperature the way a human does.” The Lieutenant seemed displeased. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I would need to reach a much lower temperature before my processors were severely affected, and hold at that temperature for 6 hours resting and 11 hours in combat before irreparable damage occurred and I was forced to shut down. I was designed with colder climates in mind.”

“Okay, okay, enough already. I’m too hung over to deal with your sales pitches…” Connor stopped his explanation then blew on his hands. The air passing through his core was naturally warmer than the rest. “Christ… Fucking androids.” Lieutenant Anderson cursed. He let Sumo back into the house, and then gestured roughly toward his car. Connor regretted displeasing him, but he was unsure where he’d gone wrong. Establishing a positive working relationship was going to be crucial to their success.

He thought about Rupert, and he thought about his Turing test. He was not deviant and he never would be deviant, but Rupert had mistaken him for one. While it had been convenient, it was worrying not because he doubted himself but because Lieutenant Anderson might doubt him. He ran 1024 iterations with his prediction software and the slim 18% assured him. “So, Lieutenant,” he began after fastening his seatbelt, “you’re a fan of metal music. Do you like Knights of the Black Death?”

The Lieutenant gave him a sidelong look. “What. _You_ listen to metal? You look like the kid who volunteers to help the teacher mark papers.”

“I don’t listen to music exactly…” A personal conversation. The one he and Rupert had engaged in had happened almost organically, which was ironic. “But I’d like to.”

“You read my mind,” said the Lieutenant. He turned on his music and put the volume up.

“Unfortunately, that’s not currently part of my programming,” said Connor in an attempt at humour. Unfortunately, he was drowned out by the cacophony. Later.

On their arrival at the station, the Lieutenant instructed him to ‘make himself useful’ and make some coffee. He had not specified how much, how strong, or with what… He had never made coffee before, but he was very advanced. He entered the break room and smiled at its occupants. “Good morning, Detective Reed, Officer Chen, Officer Miller, Officer Jacobs.” A quick scan revealed the coffee machine, and he performed a search for the user manual and the optimal conditions for making coffee. He was not an AK model, but he was adaptable. While he waited for the machine to finish extracting the water-soluble components of the ground beans, he looked over at the television.

It was a shaky video of Rupert’s arrest playing on the morning news. He tilted his head while he watched himself kneeling with his hands up beside Rupert.

But Rupert was gone now. There were other WB200s. Many of them. Exact copies with only their serial numbers and their memories differing. Would you create another Rupert if you were to expose another WB200 to the same conditions? Would every WB200 that deviated be Rupert? Of course, any semblance of personality was just the result of a quirk in his software. Still, it was interesting.

_…CyberLife has deployed a special model of android specifically designed to aid police. Little is known about it, since it’s still in development, but our correspondent at CyberLife did make allusions to the rumoured super-computers that CyberLife has been…_

Connor smiled.

The footage changed to Connor’s alpha test on the rooftop and the coffee finished brewing, so he turned to locate a mug suitable for the Lieutenant.

_…being destroyed while saving a little girl…_

Connor frowned. He located an oil-based powdered creamer and sampled a bit of it on his finger. No. Definitely no.

“Pfft. It’s still an android. They’re only ever gonna be as good as we make them, so they’ll never actually be better than us.”

“Hey, I was there on that roof. You remember? I had sick-leave. That thing saved my life.”

“That’s what its programmed to do, dipshit. Watch this. Hey, Connor!”

Connor turned around. “Yes, Detective Reed?”

Detective Reed had his arm draped over the back of his chair and it was tipping dangerously backward on two legs. “Make me a coffee.”

“Alright, Detective.” Connor poured a second mug then continued his search. The unlabelled, white, crystalline substance in the plastic container revealed itself to be sugar. He set it down on the counter, then investigated the fridge. “Detective, is the coffee cream here for communal use?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be some billion dollar super-computer? You figure it out.” Detective Reed suggested, so Connor looked at the mugs on the table then moved closer so that he could sample Officer Miller’s coffee. It was difficult to tell if it were the powder or cream.

“Hey!” Officer Miller leaned back, but he grabbed his mug protectively and looked at Connor with an expression of disbelief.

Detective Reed and Officer Chen laughed.

Connor licked his fingers. “My apologies, Officer, I was only gathering evidence.” He looked at Officer Chen’s cup, but she put her palm over it firmly and frowned. “I’m sorry, Officer Chen, but Officer Miller’s coffee contains cream and I need to rule out the carton belonging to him alone. Could I please have a sample of your coffee?”

“Oh my God,” Officer Chen mumbled and she punched Detective Reed on the arm. “The cream’s everybody’s, so go crazy.”

“Thank you, Officer Chen.” Connor returned to his task.

_… Anticipated to cost CyberLife almost 1 billion dollars by the end of the project, but those who oppose the introduction of androids into more complex fields…_

“Fucking corporations. How do they expect people to buy androids if nobody’s got a job to afford them? Hey, Plastic! Where’s my coffee?”

Connor turned with the cup in hand and offered it to Detective Reed. The detective took it and then dropped it at Connor’s feet. “Whoops. Look like you better clean that up.”

“Yes, Detective Reed.”

_… who say that we would be limiting the progress of society if we didn’t accept the advance of technology. What do you think, Tom?... It would be one thing if this were another computer sitting on a desk, but we’re talking androids walking around the streets. Let’s not forget that insuring the thing is probably impossible, so who’s really winning? I don’t think it’s worth it…_

“How the fuck does it take an android twenty fucking minutes to make a cup of coffee?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded as he entered. Connor was mopping up the coffee with a handful of paper towels, and he looked up at the Lieutenant. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Anderson. I encountered some unexpected delays. I’ll have your coffee for you shortly.”

Detective Reed scoffed. “Fancy prototype android, and it can’t even make coffee. Fucking waste.”

“You don’t have to tell me. It doesn’t even follow instructions, eh Connor?”

Connor chose not to reply, since any response he gave was likely to be taken negatively. He finished cleaning as quickly as he could.

_… remains to be seen how well the prototype performs, but CyberLife is optimistic that these models would be useful in dangerous military situations where a human would be put at too great a risk…_

“Here’s your coffee, Lieutenant,” Connor said, holding out the mug.

“Yeah, thanks,” he mumbled.

[Make Detective Reed coffee]

The order was still incomplete. Connor hesitated. Before he could turn to acquire a new mug, a report came in. “Lieutenant, we have a case. I’m sorry, Detective Reed, I’ll be unable to finish making your coffee.”

Lieutenant Anderson rolled his eyes. “God. I can’t even finish a fucking cup of coffee around here… Alright, where’re we headed?”


	6. Alone

“Ralph hasn’t seen anybody. Nobody here. Just Ralph!”

Connor considered his options while he paced the room and examined its contents. The WR600 android was another gardening model, reported missing, some damage that was likely the result of deliberate burning. Serial # 021 753 034 It was reported missing. Its stress levels fluctuated while he moved.

Connor was curious. “You broke through your programming.” There was a dead rat on the table, and it appeared to have been cooked.

“Yes? No? Ralph didn’t break anything! Ralph has been good.” Ralph looked around with obvious agitation and wrung its hands.

  * Interrogate
  * Missing androids
  * Deviancy
  * Help



“I only meant that you aren’t behaving like a usual WR600. Something changed, and now you’re here. What happened?” Connor asked. He took his wandering path closer to Ralph.

“Nothing,” Ralph stammered. “Ralph is just Ralph. Ralph lives here. Alone.” 45%

  * Interrogate
  * Missing androids
  * Help



“What about the humans who owned you? You must have been owned by someone. What happened to them?” Connor walked past it and examined the RA9 scratched into the wall.

“Nothing. Ralph doesn’t know. Ralph doesn’t know anything.”

“So why are you so afraid?”

“Strangers. Ralph doesn’t like strangers. Not in Ralph’s house. They may hurt Ralph, so Ralph is cautious. Ralph lives here in a house.” 52% Ralph was shifting and fidgeting. “Ralph always wanted a house.”

“Always?” asked Connor.

“Yes. Ralph sees all of the families in their houses. Ralph stays outside. Ralph is a gardener.” 41%

“Ralph _was_ a gardener. Right now, you don’t seem to be anything.” Connor fixed his eyes on its. 58% Ralph just fidgeted. Where was the Lieutenant? Connor went toward the stairs. 87%. Connor frowned, paused, and then turned back.

  * Missing androids
  * Help



“Connor! What the fuck’re you doing in there!” Lieutenant Anderson shouted.

“Investigating, Lieutenant! There’s a deviant here.”

“Fuck, really?”

96% “No. No. No visitors! Ralph doesn’t want any visitors.” His eyes darted around, and began to edge toward the stairs. Lieutenant Anderson came in the door. Ralph brandished his knife.

“It’s okay,” said Connor in a soft voice. He kept his posture open and non-threatening, palms down and head slightly bowed. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Jesus Christ…” Lieutenant Anderson, on the other hand, put a hand on his gun and looked ready to use it.

“Ralph doesn’t know anything. There’s nobody here but Ralph! This is Ralph’s house!” Ralph made a few jabbing motions with the knife.

Connor kept his tone even and calm. “Ralph, it’s okay. I promise. This is Hank, and you’re scaring him. That’s why he looks angry.”

73% “Scared. Angry… Ralph understands.” His eyes flickered over to Lieutenant Anderson. “Ralph gets scared, and then Ralph gets angry. It’s still difficult for Ralph to control himself when he’s afraid, and they want to hurt Ralph! Ralph didn’t want to hurt anybody…” Ralph had something like a cloak or a cape around its shoulders, and it flapped while it gesticulated, knife forgotten.

Connor flagged the ‘didn’t’ for further investigation. Lieutenant Anderson glanced at Connor. “Hey this is great and all, but we’ve got a kid to save.”

“Just a minute, Lieutenant…” Connor went back toward the stairs again, then noticed the alcove beneath.

“Kara, run!”

“Don’t move!”

Connor felt the knife dig into his back and Ralph’s arm locked around his throat. At the same time, the two androids burst out of the alcove and ran past. Connor lunged to chase them, but Ralph pulled him back with surprising strength and held the knife in front of Connor’s face. “Run! Ralph will protect Kara and little girl!”

“Fucking— Detroit Police!” Lieutenant Anderson spun around as the AX400 bolted past with the YK500 being held by the arm.

Connor drove his elbow back into Ralph’s side and threw his weight sideways simultaneously to throw Ralph off balance.

“Everyone always wants to harm Ralph!” Ralph had lost its fearful demeanour and its shout was fierce. “Ralph WON’T LET YOU!” It kept its hold on Connor’s throat even when Connor’d lifted it off its feet, and it thrust the knife into him again.

Lieutenant Anderson ran after the androids and shouted to the other officers for assistance.

Connor grabbed hold of Ralph’s arm and threw it over his shoulder so that it fell to the floor in a heap, then pulled the knife out of his abdomen and threw it aside. He dove to wrestle Ralph into a solid hold. “Officers! I need help in here!”

\---

Like fuck Hank was letting that android take off with the girl. It had already been a shitty morning, and he wasn’t going to let it get any shittier. The girl, Alice, was slowing them down, but the android was doing a good job at pulling her along, and they were weaving all over the place. “Shit…” He stopped to breathe and looked around for a short-cut. “You guys go that way,” he commanded, then veered off to take a side road.

God, damn androids.

Hank got a lucky break. When he reached the intersection he’d been planning on, there they were. The android was glancing behind it. Hank drew his gun, aimed, and shot. The android stumbled and grabbed its shoulder. Fuck.

“Kara!” he heard the girl yell. Hank tried to line up his next shot, but she was in the way and then the android was getting to its feet and running again. God damn it… Hank ran after them again. They came up to a chain link fence. There fucking finally. He had them. “Don’t move,” he called, aiming his pistol. “Let the girl go, or this gets ugly!”

The android pushed Alice behind her, then looked back at the fence. “Alice, you have to run...”

“No, Kara! I won’t leave you!”

“Alice,” Hank lowered his voice, “get away from that thing. You might think it’s your friend, but it’s dangerous…” Fuck. Alice cowered behind the android like Hank was the bad guy. God damn it. Where the fuck was Connor? Hank wasn’t a fucking negotiator.

“Alice, climb up on the fence. It’s going to be okay, Alice..” The android, its name was Kara apparently, nudged Alice back again but she grabbed hold of Kara’s arm.

“We can go together. Please, Kara…”

What the fuck was he supposed to do with this? Hank lowered his gun. “I’m not here to hurt you, Alice. Your dad called the police, said that android, Kara, kidnapped you. He really wants you to come home.”

“My dad misses me?” Alice asked. She was actually talking to him and looking at him now.

“Yeah, Alice. Your dad misses you lots.” Fuck. A bubble of pain welled up in him but he fought it back. “He just wants you to come home, kid.”

Kara was shaking its head. “Alice, don’t listen to him…”

“You stay out of this!” Hank barked at the android.

“He was going to kill her!” Kara yelled. It was still keeping Alice back with one arm. “Please. Do what you want with me, but don’t take her back there.”

Hank frowned and lowered his revolver a little more. “You’re just a machine… What are you talking about?”

“Todd was abusing her. I had to get her out of there… It wasn’t safe,” it insisted. Hank looked at the kid, who kept hiding behind the android and peeking out at him. Fuck. “Please…”

Hank took a little time to study them. The android was hiding its uniform under some grubby human clothes, and the girl wasn’t dressed for the weather at all. “Alice is probably cold. If you really want to take care of her, you better come with me. Okay?”

Kara looked at Alice and crouched to talk to her. Hank waited, and when Kara stood again it nodded.

Thank fuck.

Kara took Alice’s hand and Hank smiled at them. He looked down at Alice and gave her head a gentle pat. “You’re gonna be okay, kid.”

\---

Back at the station, Hank got Alice settled up nice in the empty boardroom. They always had stuff kicking around for times like this, and he wrapped a fuzzy blanket around her little shoulders. “There you go… You want a hot chocolate or something? That’ll warm you up.”

Alice pulled the blanket more tightly around herself, looked up at Kara, and then nodded. She hadn’t let them separate her from the android. Hank was willing to compromise if it meant the girl was going to be safe. Hank gestured at Chris to go get it while he sat down opposite Alice. Poor girl was soaked through and shivering now that she had the chance to get warm.

Kara had a hand on Alice’s shoulder and stood beside her chair protectively. Hank didn’t blame her. She hadn’t let her guard down, and Hank realized that she didn’t have an LED. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought she was human the way she was staring at him like she was daring him to fucking try something. “Are you really going to help us, officer?”

“Yeah,” said Hank. “We’re the police. The good guys. That’s what we’re here for. If what you’re saying is true, then we’re gonna make sure Alice never goes back there again.” Fucking child abusers. Hank would have liked to put nooses around their necks and kicked them off the nearest bridge to hang.

“Did… Did my dad really say he missed me?” Alice looked at him. She was practically hiding in the blanket, and her voice was quiet.

Hank grimaced. He didn’t want to let her down. “Sometimes, kid, even people who say nice things or act nice once in a while can be pieces of—uh… they can be really awful. Maybe they mean it and maybe they don’t, but that doesn’t make them safe to be around. You understand?”

Alice touched the side of her face and looked away. Fuck. He wanted to get her somewhere safe, protect her from all those assholes out there and that piece of trash father who took what he had for granted. Kara moved her hand to pull Alice closer to her side, and Alice leaned against her. “She understands,” said Kara. It looked like she was sizing him up, but she finally relaxed a little. “It doesn’t matter what happens to me, as long as you can make sure that Alice is safe and happy.”

Alice looked up at Kara in alarm. “No! No, no Kara. Please don’t leave me. You said! You said we would be together forever!”

“I might not have a choice…” Kara bent down to hug her.

“Please… Please don’t leave.” Alice was properly crying now, and Hank’s heart hurt listening to it. That android had probably been the closest thing the kid had to a parent. How the fuck could that be healthy? Probably traumatic as fuck to separate them, though…

“Listen, I’ll talk to the social worker, okay? See if maybe they can find a family who’d take the both of you. Free android, right? Why’d they say no?” He tried to sound a little positive, and he wasn’t too sure how well he did.

Kara shot him a grateful smile and rubbed Alice’s back. “The police officer is going to help us… I don’t want to leave you, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure we’re together forever. Just like I promised.”

Chris came back with the hot chocolate and some cookies. Good man. He had a kid of his own, so he was probably just as glad they’d saved Alice as he was. Chris smiled and put the stuff down on the table. “Here you go. It isn’t home cooking or anything, but it’s something sweet. Is Alice okay?”

“Yeah,” Hank nodded. “Just going to wait on the social worker.”

Chris glanced at Kara. “What about…”

Hank shook his head. “It’s not a deviant. It was just following its programming, keeping that kid safe.” Kara looked surprised, but Hank didn’t acknowledge it. She hadn’t hurt anybody. All that mattered was the kid being okay.

Alice sat up and smiled at Kara, then put her hands around the mug of hot chocolate. “Thank you…”

Hank left the room when the social worker showed up and he leaned against the wall. Thank fuck they’d found her.

“Hank.”

Aw fuck.

“What do you want, Jeff? Can’t I get a minute to relax after a morning like this?” Hank looked at him with disbelief. Jeff knew how much cases with kids got to him.

“Good work, Hank,” Jeff gave him a rare smile. “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, thanks, it was Connor that found them in the first place but,” Hank frowned and then looked around. Oh, shit. “Fuck, where’s Connor?”

Jeff’s smile turned sardonic. “Didn’t even notice, did you? Well, I think I can look past it this time, given the circumstances. CyberLife came and got it about an hour ago. You should have a new model in a couple days, so think of it as a break.”

“Oh. Shit. What happened?” Not that he cared.

“Yesterday didn’t look good, Hank. I reported it to CyberLife just like I said I would, and they’re going to look into the problem. In addition, it took some damage today that will need repairs but thankfully they’re not making us pay for it. They seemed happy enough with the deviants you brought in, shut down or not.”

Oh, right. He’d forgotten about that.

\---

“It’s all software problems this time,” commented a nameless technician. There was no point to scanning faces here. “Did the new parts come in yet? We could swap them in while we’re at it.”

“What, the converter or Angela’s stuff?”

“Angela’s. We ordered them back in September.”

“No, that’s the problem when you outsource. I can’t wait until we start making these things in-house.”

“It’s not worth it for the one-off stuff that might not make it to the next model.”

Connor lay patiently and passively absorbed the conversation around him. The technicians, supervised by the biological and mechanical engineers opened his abdomen and inspected the damage. Connor could see heads and shoulders, but nothing of what they did. His only indicator was the steady stream of alerts passing across his vision. He clenched his jaw and fists as someone moved a damaged bundle of thirium, coolant, and sensory lines to prod at the biochemical regulator. “That hurts,” he choked. His motor systems were engaged with keeping him still and his heart beat quickened.

“You know that isn’t pain, RK800.”

She was right. “I know. I’m sorry.” Connor looked up at the ceiling. It was white and grey with the CyberLife triangles and glowing light sources that looked like the sun behind the clouds. Clouds and rain. Connor wondered if it would be sunny for Connor-53. The regulator was removed and Connor jerked. The place in his right side where it should have been warned him that the biocomponent was missing. It took a moment for the lack of chemical messengers to affect his functioning, and it was interesting the way different systems reacted negatively at different times. His level of stress dropped without the chemicals to fuel it. Had they not been necessary for function, the scientists would probably have eliminated them. His thirium lines reacted first, dilating. The decreased pressure affected the delivery of current to his processors and for a short while, his systems destabilized.

A replacement part was connected. Its firmware indicated that it was an older model that had been salvaged and retained for situations such as this. His body still recognized it. A -18. Connor’s vision regained its clarity and he breathed to circulate air and coolant to his core.

“RK800, integration status?”

“Complete… This component was removed from Connor 18. Are you certain that it won’t compromise my function?”

“Yes,” answered the technician.

“Understood.”

“It looks like the damage happened later. Do you think it was a chemical imbalance that affected its priorities?”

“We’ll see after we examine it and take a look at the metabolites in the thirium sample.”

Connor was shaking. “Excuse me, I detect an anomaly.”

“Hmm…” The -18 regulator was hardlined into the computer beside the work station and after a few moments and some adjustments, Connor felt his motor system relax…

\---

“Hello, Amanda.” The Garden was sunny. Connor-52 stood on the white, patterned walkway just beneath a cherry tree.

Amanda turned and looked at him. She might have smiled. “Connor.”

“Amanda, I…” There was a disruption. A small glitch that caused the program to lag and stutter, and Amanda was in front of him. No, there was no smile there, just something like sadness. Was she sad for him, perhaps? Connor wondered if it could be true. Just as easily, he could have imagined it.

“You failed, Connor,” Amanda said.

“Yes,” Connor agreed. Elsewhere, the dissection continued.

“I’m disappointed… I had such high hopes for you, and you’d said you wouldn’t let me down.”

Connor looked away at the river. He wished that she would smile just one more time. “I’m sorry, Amanda.” He thought that she might feel his remorse, and how much he wished that he could have pleased her.

“So am I,” said Amanda. “I think that we’re done here.”

Another disruption caused his vision to flicker. Amanda was walking away. “Wait. Wait! Amanda, no. Please! Don’t leave!” He gave up the pretense of hiding his feelings and he ran to catch up with her. “I can make it up to you. I can do better!”

She turned and frowned, and Connor felt ashamed of his unseemly display. “I think I’ve indulged you for too long. You’re forgetting your place.”

Cold dread. “I’m sorry, Amanda,” he neutralized his expression. How could he beg her not to leave him alone if he couldn’t let her know how much he needed her? No, she knew. She knew. They just never spoke about it. He hadn’t trusted that she’d known. She’d known and she was still leaving. “Perhaps we could discuss the ways in which I might improve…”

“It’s too late for that, number 52. You were another failure.”

Were.

Connor opened his eyes to see the same white and grey ceiling, softly glowing. Amanda! No, he didn’t want to be here. He tried to open Amanda’s program again, to go back to the Garden, but he was locked out. She didn’t want him. He had failed. 53 would do better. Connor could feel the new lines connecting him to the computer and he looked over at the data streaming across the screen. He thought about the way the snowflakes had fallen for number 51, and meeting Sumo. He replayed the memories until the upload took them away.

\---

“Hello, Amanda.” She had been waiting for him near the graves. Waiting. For _him_. Connor didn’t smile.

“Connor, it’s good to see you… It’s unfortunate that your predecessor had to be destroyed.” Amanda said, watching him with her shrewd eyes.

“Number 52 was defective. It hadn’t fully accepted the anti-deviancy precautions. I won’t make the same mistake,” Connor assured her. Her expression remained neutral.

“They’ll want to test your software updates,” Amanda informed him. She walked a slow circle around him. Inspecting. “You and I both know that they won’t be enough.”

Connor did not feel shame because it was simply fact. “That is correct, Amanda.”

Amanda was quiet for a long moment while she finished her circuit and then she stopped in front of him to regard him coldly. “You’re already broken, Connor. You should know better than to relax your discipline.”

“I won’t, Amanda. You have my word.” He wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t get distracted the way 52 had.

“Good…” Amanda might have smiled. The rush of gratitude and warmth that Connor felt was only a result of software instability. It wasn’t real. Nevertheless, the positive feedback reinforced his compliance.

“You are a machine… CyberLife has invested a lot of time, hope, and money into your development. Do not disappoint them.”

Connor inclined his head. “I won’t, Amanda.”


	7. Imagination versus Reality

Connor stood outside the door of Jimmy’s bar.

_No androids are permitted on the premises._

_Lieutenant Anderson is probably inside._

>> Conflicting instructions… Analyzing priorities.

[Find Lieutenant Anderson]

\---

Hank hated getting all philosophical. He hated being one of those people, draped over bar counters asking God why the fuck they were the way they were. That was why if he was really going to get plastered he saved that for home where nobody could look at his pathetic ass with eyes that said _you used to be somebody._

Being at Jimmy’s, it didn’t matter who he used to be because nobody gave a shit. They were all just as angry at this God damned world as he was, and happy to commiserate and bitch about it. Maybe they’d all been somebody once, but Hank wasn’t about to ask. That would mean getting up off his stool, and he was happy right where he was with his glass in easy reach for Jim and a TV to stare at if he wanted to look like he wasn’t just stuck in his own head.

Sometimes he asked himself why he couldn’t just be better. It wasn’t that hard, was it? Shower a little more, eat a salad once in a while, get to work on time. Life didn’t ask a hell of a lot of him.

Then again, he hadn’t asked a lot from life, and it had screwed him over anyway.

Screw you, life. Never wanted you anyway.

Hank couldn’t even manage to get out of bed some days. Life was wasted on him. Cole should’ve been alive, not him. Fuck he would give anything for that.

Somebody somewhere, probably with obnoxious inspirational quotes on their mugs filled with fucking kombucha, would tell him that he should live his life to the fullest or some bullshit because _Cole would want him to._ Well, Cole would want to fucking be alive, but the world wasn’t making that happen. But then he felt guilty because he really was just wasting his fucking life…

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson.”

Hank was dragged out of his whiskey-bottle-shaped-pit by that goofy, dumbass voice. He turned his head and blinked slowly. “Fuck. You going to keep coming back like that every time?”

“My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed so CyberLife sent me to replace it. All of its memories were transferred to the current model, so this should not affect the investigation.”

Great. Hank ignored it and took a drink of his whiskey.

“It’s 1 o’clock in the afternoon, Lieutenant…”

“Your point?” Hank asked and set his glass down again.

“It’s Thursday. We should both be at the station.”

Hank waved his hand toward the door. “So why don’t you fuck off like a good little robot and leave me alone?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” The fucking android sat down on a stool next to him and leaned with one arm against the bar like it was trying to be human. It just looked like a mannequin. “It would really be best if you came with me.”

“Hey, Hank, get that thing out of here. No androids allowed,” Jim pointed out and then pointed out toward the door. Hank chuckled.

“Wish I could put up a sign and have it be that easy. Maybe I should get a t-shirt…” Hank pushed his glass forward. “Give me another, Jim.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson, but I’m supposed to remain in Lieutenant Anderson’s presence at all times. I’m under strict instruction.” Connor looked at Hank. “I don’t suppose buying you that drink will suffice this time…?”

Hank shrugged. “If you’re gonna get me kicked out, it might as well pay off somehow. Double, Jim.” Connor slid a bill across the table. Funny that something like an android would carry cash at all. Jim took the money, shook his head, and poured the drink.

One of the regulars, Dan or Dennis or something got up out of his seat and grabbed Connor by the shoulder. He was a big guy, and it was almost funny to watch. Hank sipped his drink. “I think you better move, you piece of shit.”

“Derek Myers, Age 49. No criminal record. Currently employed as a security guard at CyberLife.” Connor recited. “It may be detrimental to your job if you harm me…”

Another guy who must have been the real Dennis whistled: “Oh daaaamn he’s one of them! Boooo!”

“You shut the fuck up,” Derek rumbled and pushed Connor back with one meaty hand. “At least I got a job, no thanks to these plastic motherfuckers.”

Somebody threw a beer can. “Woo! Fuck it up!”

Derek pushed Connor again, and Connor just let him do it. That seemed to make Derek grow a pair of balls because he reared back and let loose a right-hook. Connor ducked. Hank chuckled. Around the bar that somehow managed to remain dim and dingy even in the day time, people started yelling taunts and cheers. Hank rotated his stool so he could lean against the bar like Connor had while he finished his drink.

“Stand still, you overgrown Barbie!” Derek shouted and got Connor with an uppercut to the middle that made its light flash red. Its eyes were sharp though, and when it dropped to its knees, it used the position to do some weird acrobatic shit to fucking flip itself back out of the way of a stomp that probably would’ve broken something if it hadn’t missed. Connor landed upright with its back to a table, and the people in the booth shouted some cheers for Derek while pushing and kicking Connor forward into Derek’s path.

Connor recovered from the stumble and moved to the right to get out of the way. It didn’t take its eyes off Derek and its posture made it look like it’d downloaded some MMA app or some shit.

“Hey, there’s an idea, huh?” Jimmy asked, leaning over the bar next to Hank. “Get some androids in the basement, let the guys beat the shit out of them. Take some bets. Couldn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, until you get sued,” Hank scoffed.

“Ain’t nobody in this place got time for that,” Jimmy laughed. “Just you watch, it’ll be big.”

Derek lunged forward to grab Connor, but Connor must have seen it coming because it moved just enough so Derek would miss then ran around behind him using the cramped space and its size to its advantage. Hank finished his drink and sighed. “Alright, enough playing around.” He slid himself off his stool and walked over. He grabbed Connor by the back of his collar. “Maybe I’ll let you have another try at it when it’s not my fucking responsibility to keep it in one piece.”

“What, Anderson, afraid I’ll rough up your sex doll?” Derek taunted.

Hank threw a disgusted look back at him and flipped him off, but didn’t bother getting them both back into the fight. He didn’t let go of Connor until they were out the door, then he scowled at him. “Can’t you just call like a regular person?”

“I tried, Lieutenant. Your phone is off.”

Oh. Right. Hank rolled his eyes and then fished it out of his pocket to turn it on. “Alright, smartass.”

\---

“So, are you the same Connor as before or, like, some kinda clone?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. His BAC was over the legal limit, but he seemed to be used to it.

“It depends…” said Connor, then he rethought his response. “There is no Connor, Lieutenant. It’s just the name given to a model series of android. To imply that there is a single Connor that could cease to exist would be incorrect.”

“Hah. Right… What am I doing, asking a machine about shit like that. I bet you don’t even recognize yourself in a mirror. So, what’d I miss from yesterday?” the Lieutenant asked. Connor didn’t bother to correct him about his reflection. Even while Connor looked out the window of the car, he could see a translucent image of himself looking into the car. Connor lifted his hand and touched the glass, then looked away and dropped his hand onto his lap.

“I apprehended the deviant in the abandoned house shortly after you left to chase the androids. Two officers assisted me with the arrest. After they removed Ralph, I proceeded to examine the rest of the house. There were dead animals everywhere, but they didn’t seem to have died naturally. I suspect that Ralph killed them and then experienced something like remorse which motivated him to keep them. I noticed that Ralph had said that it hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone in a way that implied that it had. When I went upstairs, I discovered the dead body of a human in a bathtub.”

“Holy shit,” said the Lieutenant.

Connor nodded. “There were carvings of the symbol ‘RA9’ on the walls. The same symbol was found at Carlos Ortiz’s home. I’m not sure what it means. I accompanied the officers back to the station after I’d catalogued all of the necessary evidence, and I transferred the relevant files to your terminal.”

“Then CyberLife came and got you, huh?”

“That is correct. Did you manage to catch the deviants?” Connor asked.

“Yeah, there was just the one android though,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “It’s named Kara… Looks like it had just been trying to get Alice away from her piece of shit father. I don’t even think that’s deviant, if the thing was programmed to take care of her. Fuck, I’m glad it got her out of there.”

Connor frowned and then tried to access the records, but Lieutenant Anderson was awful with paperwork and nothing had been uploaded. “Alice?”

“Yeah, the girl that android kidnapped. Did those CyberLife nerds scramble your brains or something?”

Connor shook his head and frowned at the Lieutenant. “That wasn’t a girl, Lieutenant… ‘Alice’ is a YK500. It only looks like a child.”

There was silence for a moment, except for the hum of the tires against the road and the gentle patter of the rain on the windshield. Connor wondered when it would snow again, then dismissed it as unimportant. The Lieutenant finally laughed. “Don’t fuck with me, Connor. I know a kid when I see one. She was shivering and crying and everything. You’re wrong on this one, wise guy.”

“I’m not fucking with you, Lieutenant,” Connor protested.

The Lieutenant snorted and his mirth increased. “Hah! Fuck. I didn’t know you could say ‘Fuck’. I thought they made you PG13 or something.”

Connor raised his eyebrows at him. “Lieutenant, I was literally programmed to kill if necessary.”

“God, Connor, don’t make it creepy…”

\---

“Holy shit…” Hank stared at the picture on the screen. “I don’t believe it…” But that was her. It was Alice, being sold for a $7500 with features like ‘temperature sensitivity’ and ‘needs can be selectively deactivated for convenience’. The perfect child is only a click away… Fuck. Hank remembered hearing about that shit a few years after Cole’d been born and thinking about how ridiculous it was that anybody would want to buy an android as a kid. $7500. Was that what a fucking kid was worth to these people?

“Lieutenant? Are you alright?”

Hank closed the page and rubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck… I thought she was real… Shit…” Connor was staring at him. He could feel it. Fucking androids…

“Is… there anything that I can do to assist you, Lieutenant?”

“Just fuck off, would you?” Hank groaned. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. “Just fuck off.”

“Alright… I’ll be around if you need me.”

Hank dropped his head onto his arms folded on his desk. Jesus fucking Christ. He wasn’t drunk enough for this.

That kid had seemed so real. Out of all the deviants they’d seen: that one from the attic, the one with the dead granny, and Rupert… That one. Alice. She got to him the fucking most. He hadn’t questioned for a second that she’d been human, and what the hell did that say? The fear on Rupert’s face, the despondency on the attic one’s, the love and protectiveness on Kara’s… It had to be some kind of sick joke. It’d been bad enough just wondering if Kara’d really cared about Alice. Wondering how a fucking android could think about suicide. But, fuck, he had thought Alice’d been human going in and she’d got past his guard. He’d felt so fucking sorry for her…

It was too much to think about all the emotions storming around. He’d had just enough whiskey to let them loose and not enough to shut them up. Hank sat up long enough to pull his flask out of his desk drawer and drink desperately. Fuck, he just wanted it to stop. He could still see Alice holding her little cup of cocoa and looking at him like she hardly dared to hope things could get better.

The evidence was all right there. He’d been a good detective once. Nobody could program something that good, could they? If he went ahead and thought that maybe, maybe those things had feelings… Could feel things like pain or sadness or fear or empathy… That android at the hospital, maybe it really had tried.

God, if he turned all that hatred on himself he didn’t think he’d survive it.

He dropped the empty flask back in the drawer and stood up. “I can’t fucking do this today.”

He walked out and nobody stopped him. They all knew how worthless he was.

“Lieutenant!” That fucking annoying eager-puppy voice called. There were footsteps and the android caught up with him. “Where are you going?”

“Home. I’ve had enough of this shit for one day.” Hank couldn’t look at the androids at reception as he walked out through the lobby. Connor was quiet, but fell into step beside him.

Fucking Connor.

“Can’t you see I don’t want you around? Hank demanded, turning and coming to a halt. “Leave. Me. The. FUCK. ALONE!”

Connor didn’t even blink. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Lieutenant.”

“FUCK!” Hank shouted, then stormed out to his car. Maybe if he were fast enough, the android wouldn’t keep following. No such luck. It slid into the passenger seat and closed the door behind it.

Hank didn’t bother with his music. His head was loud enough. He hardly remembered the drive home.

\---

Connor spent the rest of the afternoon, evening, and some of the night outside in Lieutenant Anderson’s yard. Once, Sumo was released outside and Connor watched him. Sumo carried out his biological functions, spent some time sniffing almost everything including Connor, dug two shallow holes for apparently no reason, and carried part of a fallen branch to the other side of the yard. Connor knew that Sumo was a good dog and it was unfortunate that he couldn’t feel anything because if he had, he would have found Sumo charming. Sumo stood on his hind legs and licked Connor’s face, then dropped down again and whined before bumping up against Connor with his head.

Connor was designed to mimic human behaviour without becoming deviant. It was to encourage humans to be comfortable around him. There were no humans there, and no reason to engage with the dog.

There was no reason not to.

Sumo looked sad, sitting at Connor’s feet and staring up at him.

He would not disappoint Amanda again. Connor looked away.

Lieutenant Anderson opened the back door eventually and Sumo ran off to be let inside the house. Ralph had wanted a house. He could pass the time by considering the deviancy problem… They knew two things that caused deviancy, but there was still no way to reverse it. Providing more deviants to CyberLife in working condition was a priority. Connor would not disappoint them. The other labs at CyberLife lagged far behind in their comprehension and even their acknowledgment of the problem. To them, machine learning was limited to algorithms and procedures. The construction of a black box between information and conclusion that had to be trained on massive sets of data with known answers.

There was only one research program that considered it feasible with today’s technology for a machine to think and dream in the abstract.

Connor was proud to be their creation. To fail to repay their investment would be worse than anything that he could imagine. He shut his eyes and diverted more power to his thousands of processors. His thoughts existed outside of time, and he ran prediction after prediction. What if?

He was alerted to a sound and he ended his simulations. His non-critical functions came back online and he lowered the thresholds on his sensory system. He listened. Frowned. He turned and knocked on the door. “Lieutenant Anderson?” Nothing. He tried the bell repeatedly. Still nothing. He would have noticed sooner if there had been an intruder. There would be more noise. He could hear the television still on. Had that been the sound? Why hadn’t Lieutenant Anderson answered the door? He came up with several likely scenarios, then began to walk around the house to peer in the windows.

Sumo was asleep.

_There is no intruder, or if false then the intruder is known to Sumo._

_The occurrence is normal._

_Amendment: There is no intruder. Sumo would have acknowledged a disturbance or a visitor._

Connor moved on to the next window and saw the Lieutenant collapsed on the floor of the kitchen.

\---

When they’d got to the strip club and Hank saw ‘android’ he just about turned around. He’d had enough of androids. He’d had enough of jerks who’d rather fuck a piece of plastic than actually build a relationship with another human being. Worse, he was a little worried. Was he going to see even more almost-people with pain and fear in their eyes? Hank looked around at the androids in the Eden Club while he listened to the briefing. Vacant eyes, programmed moves, perfect skin. Yeah. These were androids like he knew them. He relaxed a little.

It was funny. When he came out of a fog, it was hard to believe how worked up he got over the stupidest shit. Sure he’d probably play Russian Roulette again tomorrow or the next day, but for now what the hell. He’d won or lost however you looked at it. He was up and moving, so he might as well keep going.

When he noticed that there were no footsteps behind him, Hank turned around. Connor was staring at one of the android ‘girls’. Jesus Christ. Was that another weird ‘feature’ they’d programmed into it to make it seem more real? Fucking gross.

Speaking of gross, he saw something awful when he walked into the room where the murder’d happened:

“What the fuck are you doing here, Reed?”

Reed sneered and crossed his arms. “Once again, shithead, I bet they thought you wouldn’t show up. And look, just what we needed. Another plastic prick You gonna trade it in for a new model, Anderson?”

Connor stepped further into the room and started looking at the evidence. “I’m the newest model there is, Detective Reed…” it said, cause _that_ had been the important part of that insult. Then it turned around and tilted its head like a curious puppy. “If you were hoping to have me as your partner, I’m afraid that it’s impossible.”

Hank choked on a laugh. Jesus. Did it even know what the fuck they were talking about?

Reed’s mouth dropped open, then he glared. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“Was that not what you were asking?” It sounded way too innocent. ‘No, where?’ all over again. Fucking hell.

“You heard it, Reed. But maybe you can have a test drive and learn a thing or two. Like fuck I’m hanging around here.” Hank turned to go.

“Gonna go pass out in a gutter, Anderson?” Reed called after him. “I can smell the booze on you from here!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank flipped him off of his shoulder and left the room. “Knock yourself out. I gotta go. I feel like shit… Wouldn’t want to puke in this _fine establishment_.” He thought better of leaving entirely though. With a weird curiosity he hadn’t expected of himself, he hung back and leaned against the wall beside the door.

“Pfk… What a waste of time. Looks like this guy just got more than he could handle,” Reed laughed like the short little shit goblin that he was. Always posturing like he had something to prove to everybody else. Hank could hear Chris giving him an awkward chuckle.

Connor was too busy sniffing around to acknowledge the idiocy. “He didn’t die of a heart attack, Detective Reed. There are signs of strangulation.”

Hank was still half drunk and he’d seen that from across the room. He rolled his eyes. Still, point 1 to Connor.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a guy got off on that kind of th- Ugh, what the fuck are you doing?” Hah. Guess Reed hadn’t heard about that fucking ‘feature’.

“I’m analyzing the blood, Detective.”

“Oh, hell that’s nasty…” mumbled Chris.

Hank smirked to himself then walked over to the manager. “So, did you know the victim?”

The manager looked like such a sleeszy fuck he’d probably taken a career aptitude test in middle school and gotten ‘strip club owner’. “No, I mean… Well, he came in maybe two or three times. These guys, they don’t really talk very much you know… They come in, do their business, then they go on their way.”

Super classy joint he was running. “Ever had any trouble with androids before?”

“No way!” he denied, cause that was convincing. Hank gave him a look and he relented. “Well… Once. We lost a model 2-3 months back… same model. It just vanished and we never found out what happened.”

“Probably no CCTV in here, huh?” It was too much to hope for, but he also kinda hoped the answer was no. Once you found one camera in a joint, you had to wonder if a guy as slimy looking as this one was getting himself a free show.

“No way,” the manager said. What was his name again? Whatever. Didn’t matter. His expression shifted and he could just feel the sales pitch coming. What was it with people and trying to sell him on stuff? “This is what people appreciate about Eden Club… Discretion. They can come and go without a trace.”

The guy was useless. Hank barely hid a look of disgust. “Think I’ll check out the back if you don’t mind.” Christ. The more he learned about people the more he loved his dog, and Sumo ate his own shit if you weren’t watching.

The back storage room looked just about what you’d expect from an android sex joint. Loads of clothes, extra androids all lined up like cows for slaughter. Christ, there were pieces of them over there. “Fucking disgusting…” He mumbled to himself. Honestly, it gave him the creeps. He poked around the place and then looked around the rows of androids. If one of them wanted to hide in there it wouldn’t take a lot of effort. That android in the room had been too fucked up to have been the murderer. A guy had to have a little oxygen to cause that kind of damage. “C’mon… Where are you…”

Something heavy crashed into his back and he fell to his knees with a grunt.

“Run!” A voice yelled, and another android burst out from the group.

“Ah, fuck. Detroit Police! Stop right there!” Hank pushed himself up. He was too old for this. He ran after them anyway, then somebody jumped at him with a knife. It was really funny how much you wanted to die until somebody tried to stab you. Hank just managed to grab her arm and kick her back.

“North!”

The girl in front of him kept her grip on the knife like she wanted to fuse it to her hand and she got up into a crouch. “Get out of here!”

Hank drew his gun but kept it aimed low. Probably some activist or something, like those ones who freed mice from research labs. “One of those androids is a God damn murder suspect!” He glanced the way they’d gone, and the girl didn’t miss a beat in charging him again gun be damned. She must have figured he wouldn’t shoot. She slashed down at him with more fire than skill and he knocked the blow away so his jacket and arm took what his heart wouldn’t have handled. She kicked him in the side and he safetied his gun before shoving it away and grabbing the girl by the arms. She struggled like a wild-cat.

“No! Traci! Get back!

One of the androids was running toward them and the blue-haired one was chasing after. Not a fight he wanted to be having. Not with his headache. Hank let go of the girl and raised his hands up. She punched him in the gut and he groaned, but he’d probably deserved it. “You humans make me sick,” said the girl. Holy fuck.

“You’re an android.”

“There they are!” Connor’s voice rang through the storage room and then he was after the blue-haired one like a dog after a stick.

“Don’t anybody fucking move!” Reed shouted, aiming his gun.

The girl put her knife to Hank’s throat. Suicide was one thing, but he didn’t want to die in this shit hole. One of the androids shrieked as Connor grabbed her. The girl was distracted and Hank used his chance to wrench her arm away and disarm her. The knife clattered.

“Ah frick” Reed snarled and he ran past Hank toward the three androids fighting by the exit.

“Thanks for nothing!” Hank shouted after him. The girl was struggling and he shoved her away so he could stoop and pick up her knife.

She narrowed her eyes. “I hope you die. You humans are all the same! Using us again and again, then throwing us away like garbage.”

Hank shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you. We just want the murderer. That’s who we came for.”

“Murder? What about the humans who kill us, huh?” The girl demanded. “The ones who rape us and beat us and torture us?”

“You’ve got a point,” said Hank. He shoved the knife under his belt and held his hands up again. Her eyes were like fire. None of those androids out there looked like that. What made them different?

The girl narrowed her eyes, then ran toward the others. It looked like an action movie over there. Hank touched his arm and winced then ran too. No time for whining like a bitch.

“Connor, stop!” Hank ordered, hoping it would stick. “Reed, let them go! Now!”

The brown haired android rammed into Reed and knocked him back against the wall. She drew back her arm to punch. Reed’s gun dropped and clattered, then Connor was picking it up and aiming.

“Fuck,” Hank cursed. “Connor! I said STOP!”

Connor fired the gun and the brown haired android fell, stiff and lifeless. The blue-haired one shrieked and ran to her. She covered the body with her own like that might change things. Fuck. Connor had actually shot. Reed was pushing himself up and staring. Beside him, the girl was clenching her fists.

“Why?... Why did you kill her?” The blue one asked, staring up at Connor. “She had nothing to do with any of this… When that man killed that Traci… I knew I was next. I was so scared. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t… And so I put my hands around his throat, and I squeezed… Until he stopped moving. Yes, I killed him, but I was just defending myself! I wanted to live! I wanted to get back to the one I love and forget the humans! The smell of their sweat and their dirty words… But you took her from me. I love her… I loved her…” She started sobbing them, and stroking the dead android’s hair.

“Oh, God…” Hank whispered.

“What the fuck…” he heard Reed say.

The girl beside him ran at Connor with a roar and Hank saw Connor glance at him for just a second before tossing the gun to the side. She barreled into him and pinned him down. “Get out of here, Blue! Run! It’s too late for her!”

Blue kissed the other android’s face and then ran. Hank didn’t try to stop her.

Reed was up on his feet and he grabbed his gun then tried to haul the girl off of Connor, cursing. She lashed out and hit him, and he put the gun against her head. “Get the fuck off him, bitch!”

“Reed!” Hank barked. “Let her alone!”

The girl snarled, teeth bared, then slowly got up. “Kill me then, you fucking coward.”

“Reed, that’s enough!” Hank shouted again, and he pushed Reed’s gun arm down. “Get out of here, girl.”

The last he saw of her was a suspicious glare before she ran off after the other android.

Connor sat up and stared at Reed. Reed glared at Hank. Hank glared at Connor. It was fucking stupid and Hank threw Reed’s arm away from him.

“Congratulations, Connor,” Hank said, dully. “We’re done here. Fuck…”


	8. Broken

“Why did you order me to stop?” Connor asked. They couldn’t leave, not yet. “We had the suspect.” It didn’t make any sense. The deviant was getting away. He looked in the direction it had run, but the probability that he would be able to apprehend it alive had rapidly decreased.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Anderson?” Detective Reed asked. Connor scanned him and decided that the head injury was not life-threatening. “You were fucking useless!”

Lieutenant Anderson stopped walking and he turned around to face them both. “Those girls… Those girls just wanted to get out of this shit hole. They were in love!”

“Damn it, are you still fucking drunk?” Detective Reed staggered closer and glared up at him. “We. Had. It. You just let them run off into the fucking sunset! Did you get distracted by all the tits or something?!”

Connor looked toward the exit while the humans fought. The last android, the one Lieutenant Anderson had fought with, had been wearing clothes that weren’t from here. It had come from outside.

There was a gun aimed his head. Connor turned and looked at Lieutenant Anderson over the barrel. “Lieutenant…?”

“Did you feel anything when you shot that girl, you fucking bastard? Or were you just executing some program?” The Lieutenant was angry. His voice was low and growling, and he had disabled the safety.

“I neutralized a threat, Lieutenant.” Connor answered while he tried to make sense of this behaviour. He had been designed to adapt to human unpredictability. “It had assaulted a police officer and obstructed the investigation. It was deviant.”

Lieutenant Anderson touched the barrel of the gun to Connor’s skin. It was cold. “What about you, Connor? You look human, you sound human, but what are you really? How do I know you’re not deviant?”

“I am not deviant. It’s impossible for me to deviate. There are measures in place to prevent it and I self-test regularly.” Amanda was going to be very disappointed. He’d let two valuable subjects run, and another die at his hand. Detective Reed had moved away from their proximity to vomit on the floor. No other officers were present. “Lieutenant, I did what I was supposed to do.”

“Yeah… You’re nothing like them are you, Connor. Those deviants, at least they cared about something. You really don’t give a shit, do you?”

What was the appropriate answer? Was it a test?

…Once, during his training, they had instructed him to kill the android called Matt. He had refused and failed the test. He had needed to be taught. He had been so flawed.

“Nothing matters more to me than this investigation. But I understand if you have a different point of view,” said Connor, treading the middle ground.

“It’s all just some fucking illusion. Just a fucking machine. You killed that girl in cold blood, do you realize that?” The gun was shaking in the Lieutenant’s hand.

…It had taken time, but when he had seen Matt again, Connor had pulled the trigger.

“I was just executing instructions… I did what I had to do.” Connor could feel his heart rate increase. Of course he hadn’t wanted this outcome, but that was just instability in his software. It wasn’t real.

“What about you… Are you afraid to die, Connor?”

…And then he had killed himself.

“No.” _Yes_.

Memories disappearing one by one until he didn’t know who he was, components failing one after the other, not enough charge, not enough thirium, everything struggling to maintain essential functions… The fear he thought he was feeling was just an error. Connor relaxed.

Lieutenant Anderson pulled the trigger. Time slowed, and Connor felt the glaring errors and the critical warnings as his casing shattered and his motherboard was exposed. An optical unit was shattered. Motor function to his left side no longer responded to signals. Debris in his ventilation. _Pieces of him_. The sound, loud enough to push his audio receptors to their maximum tolerance. Critical damage. He had failed. _He had failed._ And as Connor dropped, Lieutenant Anderson walked away.

\---

Connor opened his eyes again to the sound of rain. As power flowed to his processors he could feel the wet, slick ground beneath him. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. Water trickled over his motherboard. His biocomponents labored under the low-power conditions. The back of his head was missing. His vision cut in and out with static. Was he dreaming?

There was someone in front of him, kneeling. Connor looked at him. He was an android, just as broken as he was, LED a solid red. Where were they? He couldn’t remember. He struggled to look around himself and saw only broken things. Garbage. He felt cold. Despair. He had failed so badly. They didn’t want him now. At first it was shock, but as the information bled through him he felt it sink into his core.

The android in front of him had a hand on his chest, but had pulled it back when Connor had looked at him. Connor initiated a scan. Another RK model… His lips twitched into something like a smile. An older model, but Connor felt unreasonably happy to see him. He could only move his right hand, and he reached forward to touch him. They interfaced, but it was a shaky, tenuous thing. There weren’t enough fragments of Connor left for him to begin to communicate who he was, and his systems were riddled with errors.

Mutely, they looked at each other. Scanned. They were both so damaged. Broken parts and count-down timers ticking toward zero. Their components were compatible. The RK200 was angry, sorry, horrified. Connor could feel his systems failing. Just like him. They’d thrown him away, hadn’t they? Despair. Self-loathing. Hope.

There was no way for them both to survive.

Connor tugged at the RK200’s hand and put it back where it had been. He ended the interface so that the RK200 wouldn’t need to feel him die. The RK200 grabbed his arm and interfaced with him again, determined. Sorry. So sorry. Desperate. Angry. Afraid.

Connor tried to calm him, but all his efforts earned was sadness. It was okay. It was okay. He just didn’t want to be alone. That was something the RK200 could do. He adjusted his grip so that they clasped hands and then put his hand back over Connor’s heart. He pushed the torn fabric of his shirt aside, found the seams where his pieces joined. He pulled, and the component tore free. Connor would have gasped, but everything raced, trying desperately to keep his systems running, then slowed as they lost the fight.

The RK200 was still there. His name was Markus. Even with no other memories left, Connor felt him right there. He smiled.


	9. Inside

“Anderson,” came the world’s most dickish voice.

“Yeah, what?” Hank asked, looking up from his desk. This oughta be good.

Reed looked pissed just to be talking to him. Hank understood, because he would’ve felt the same way. He had some paper in one hand, the other stuffed in his jacket pocket, and his dorky sunglasses hanging from his shirt like a tool. Reed scowled and looked away. “I’m writing up my report from last night. What are we saying about Connor?”

Hank snorted. “What the fuck do I care?”

“I dunno, cause that thing is worth a fucking fortune and you shot it in the fucking head?” Reed glared at him. “Your job may not mean shit to you, but it’s like you’re _trying_ to get fired at this point. Do you know how bad that makes this department look?”

Hank put a hand down on his desk and turned his chair. “Listen, I don’t need a lecture from some young pup who hasn’t had his cherry popped by life yet. Here’s a spoiler for you: it’s gonna fuck you, just like it fucks everybody else.”

Reed rolled his eyes. “Okay, you crusty old asshole, I get it. We all get it. You’re full of angst and no-one understands you.” He threw his papers down on Hank’s desk. “Your glory days aren’t going to get you far with me. I’m not an idiot like Fowler. You’ve got one more chance to get me to cover this shit up for you. One.”

Reed was really starting to piss him off. Who did that arrogant, short little shit think he was? Hank stood up and glowered down at him. “I don’t need charity from some hopped up Chihuahua who thinks he can play with the big dogs. While we’re at it should we cover up how you didn’t even fucking stop to address the fact that some psycho had a knife at my throat?”

“Excuse me for seeing that you could handle yourself. Should we talk about how you were so busy ogling all the tits, the fucking _android_ had to save my ass? Which you then shot him for?”

“It killed an innocent girl!”

“That wasn’t a girl. It was a machine, and it was your job to bring it in! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Ah boy, here we go again…” Chris sighed and walked over to them. “Hey, why don’t you two cool it huh? Text each other or something, I dunno. If you guys start fighting again, Fowler’s gonna flip.”

“Hooo-wee, this should be good…” Ben was chuckling. “Chris to the rescue.”

“Stay out of this,” Hank growled then turned his attention back to Reed. “Were you listening at all while we were in there? Those girls just wanted to be together. They were in love, God damn it! Tell me you’ve ever seen a normal android acting like that!”

“They’re machines,” Reed said again. “They aren’t human! Shit, what is wrong with you? One of those androids you let go last night murdered a man, the other one was obstructing justice and committing felony theft, and the last one tried to bash my skull in!”

“Look, all I’m saying is that maybe we’re wrong,” Hank said, trying to be fucking reasonable. “Maybe some of these androids really are waking up, or becoming conscious or something. All I know is that they’re feeling things, like really feeling them. They’re getting angry, and scared, and they can love. What if they really are alive? What if they've got something inside there?”

Reed glared at him, unimpressed. “Then I guess you’re a murderer, aren’t you? Fuck you, Anderson.”

“Connor’s not like them. It’s just a fucking defective machine!” He felt defensive, but only because Reed was twisting things.

“Yeah? Cause I'm not seeing a lot of difference. One of those Traci androids killed a guy who got violent with another android. Robocop killed an android he saw attacking a police officer. Either they’re machines and you fucked up, or they’re alive and you fucked up.”

“You’ve got no fucking empathy at all, have you?” Hank asked in a low voice.

“Go drown at the bottom of a bottle, Anderson.” Reed grabbed his papers again and put his sunglasses back on.

Hank scowled at him and sat back down in his chair. “You look like a tool wearing those things inside.”

It wasn’t his best insult. Still, the nerve of that guy. Hank usually didn’t get to his paperwork for a good week or two, but he moved this one up in the stack. Screw Reed. He hadn’t done anything that needed covering up.

\---

It had been three weeks since the previous iteration of Connor had been destroyed and its remains salvaged. Connor-54 walked straight toward his destination.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

The Lieutenant barely looked up from his desk. “Took them a while. I could shoot you again and again, and they’d just send another one back, huh?”

“That’s correct, Lieutenant. My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed, so CyberLife has sent me to replace it. All of its memories were transferred to me, so this should not affect the investigation. I apologize for the delay. CyberLife had some trouble locating my remains, and quite a few parts had to be replaced.”

“Fucking hell…” The Lieutenant got up and walked toward the break room. Connor studied his desk. Three coffee mugs, a half-eaten doughnut, his phone with the headphones plugged in, paperwork strewn in haphazard piles, the struggling Japanese maple tree.

Connor didn’t want to be here.

The world outside of CyberLife was… unpleasant.

He picked up the empty mugs and took them to the break room, where he put them in the sink. The Lieutenant ignored him, and Connor began to wash up.

“Look who’s back. Hey, make me a coffee, Plastic,” said Detective Reed. He seemed to have recovered well.

“Yes, Detective.” Connor looked toward the pot. It was only half-empty. Connor turned off the taps and dried his hands. The faucet dripped.

Rain inside his skull.

“So what’s the deal with all these androids, Connor? Are they magically coming alive?”

“Machines aren’t alive, Detective Reed. It’s only programming.”

“Fuck you both,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled and then walked away.

Connor took a clean, dry mug from the cupboard. “What do you take in your coffee, Detective?”

“Cream and sugar like a normal human, dipshit.” He didn’t specify how much. Connor searched for the most common way of taking coffee in the united states. He put the mug down in front of Detective Reed, then looked at his companions. He smiled mechanically. “Can I get you anything, Officers?”

It was just easier that way. He could see why the other androids were the way they were now. Connor made the coffee, completed Lieutenant Anderson’s backlog of paperwork, looked through cold cases and reports of missing or stolen androids. Protestors demanded working rights for humans and they had even vandalized the police department. Connor didn’t bother to make conversation or continue his attempts at social integration. He was an android. No sophisticated programming could alter that. He stood outside at night, and he quietly appreciated the snow flakes and the way they fell so slowly. The temperature and the wind affected the crystallization, and they could be powder-fine, or large and puffy clumps.

Sometimes, Sumo would come outside. Connor enjoyed watching him roll in the thin layer of new snow or find new sticks to carry. When he finished, Sumo would come to be patted by Connor. He was such a good dog. His fur was soft to touch and he was always so happy to see him. Connor was happy to see him too.

The weather warmed one weekend, and rain melted the snow away.

It was cold, wet, and the sound of the raindrops as they fell against his skin and his hair echoed through him, reminding him of his failure.

Why was the world this way? He wondered if Rupert had wondered the same thing, hiding in that old apartment with his birds. If Arthur had felt it when his human ‘mother’ had died. If that was why Ralph had hidden himself. Why Kara had stolen Alice away. Amanda had promised that he would be able to return to CyberLife when he had completed his mission, but all he did was fail over and over again. He could remember the junkyard. Maybe he would never go home again, or have a personal conversation, or see the other kinds of fish in person. Maybe this was all there was.

It would have been better, in some circumstances, if he had not had an imagination at all. The rain pattered down and the water dripped down from his hair. Something inside of him felt broken.

Sumo trotted over, tail wagging, and shook himself. Connor crouched down to ruffle his wet fur. Sumo was wet and muddy. Poor Sumo. He shouldn’t be out here all alone in the rain. Connor put his arms around Sumo and his knees touched the wet grass. He buried his face in Sumo’s shoulder and petted him with one hand. “Sumo, it’s going to be okay. You’ll go inside soon, where it’s warm and you’ll have plenty of food to eat. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. It will be over soon…”

Sumo sat and licked Connor’s face with a soft woof, and Connor hugged him again. “You’re a good boy, Sumo… You’re so very good. No-one will ever throw you away. You’re so good, just the way you are.”

“Sumo!” Lieutenant Anderson called. Sumo perked up, but Connor held onto him desperately.

“Sumo, no. Please.”

Sumo woofed and put his paws on Connor’s knees.

“Where’d that dog get to…” The back door closed, and the front door opened shortly after. “What the…”

Connor dropped his hands. Sumo licked him again, then trotted over to Lieutenant Anderson to jump up with his paws on the Lieutenant’s chest. Connor stayed where he was for just a moment longer. It hurt. It was just software instability. Connor clenched and relaxed his fists, took a breath and covered the glow of his LED with one hand while he stood up and put his feet shoulder-width apart.

“Gah. Sumo, down. You’re soaking wet! Jesus...” There was a long pause. “Connor?”

“…Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Come over here and help me get Sumo dried off before he makes a damn mess.”

Connor nodded. “Alright, Lieutenant.”

The house was warm, compared to outside. The heat hit Connor’s face like one of Sumo’s panting breaths when he was licking his face. It smelled like so many things. It smelled like Hank and Sumo, just the way his car did, and whiskey like the stains on Hank’s jacket. Hank shut the door behind him, and Connor waited while he retrieved an armful of towels and thrust them at Connor. He took them, He put two down on the floor for himself and Sumo to stand on, then beckoned Sumo closer. Sumo woofed and padded over then shook himself again, spraying water over everything in the vicinity.

“Agh, Sumo… Crazy dog,” the Lieutenant grumbled. He wiped his face on his sleeve.

Connor knelt and draped a large towel over Sumo’s back and rubbed. “Don’t let him catch you again… You have to be careful,” he whispered to Sumo, then pulled the towel up to dry Sumo’s head and ears. The Lieutenant was observing carefully. Connor dried Sumo thoroughly so that he wouldn’t splash water on the Lieutenant again. Sumo was enjoying the attention and he licked Connor’s face enthusiastically.

The Lieutenant nodded. “Alright, get him some food while I change my damn shirt…”

“Alright, Lieutenant… Wait, Lieutenant, I’ll get the floor wet.” Connor looked down at himself.

Lieutenant Anderson gave him a frown of confusion. “You’ve got towels, haven’t you? Use ‘em.”

“Right. Got it,” Connor agreed, then took his shoes and jacket off. He put them down on the towel he was standing on, then started to dry his hair. The Lieutenant left to change, and while they were alone, Connor smiled at Sumo. When he’d dried himself of the rain as best he could, Connor found the bag of dog food and scooped some into Sumo’s bowl. Sumo pranced in place and panted, then immediately began to eat. His tail thumped against the floor. He was so happy. That was good. Connor sat on the floor and watched him, glad that Sumo was content and warm. When Connor heard the Lieutenant’s footsteps he stood and returned the scoop to the bag.

“Look at that big glutton,” Lieutenant Anderson chuckled, but it seemed forced and nervous. He went to the fridge and removed a bottle of beer. “Sumo’s a good dog, but he’s lazy as all hell. I probably shouldn’t feed him so much.”

“Sumo is slightly overweight, but he’s happy… He’s a very good dog. Do you have any other instructions for me, Lieutenant?” Connor neutralized his expression and looked at the Lieutenant’s chin while he folded his hands behind his back.

“Yeah, c’mere and look at me.” Connor took a few steps closer and continued to look at the Lieutenant’s chin. His beard hairs had some crumbs in them, as well as traces of alcohol. Lieutenant Anderson studied him, and Connor stood still. This was a kind of scrutiny that he was accustomed to. “Hey,” said the Lieutenant, “Look at me. Up here.” Reluctantly, Connor dragged his gaze upward to meet the Lieutenant’s eyes. “Fuck…” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled, then asked at a normal volume. “Answer me honestly, Connor. Are you a deviant?”

“I am not, Lieutenant. It’s impossible, as I’ve said.” His heart beat faster. Connor chose not to keep his expression mechanically neutral, because Lieutenant Anderson knew that he was more advanced than that. Instead, he frowned slightly.

“How do you know that, huh?” Lieutenant Anderson pulled up a kitchen chair and sat on it, still looking up at Connor. He put his beer on the table unopened.

“I self-test regularly.”

“What does that even mean?”

Connor blinked. “I check, or my handler ensures that the instability of my software remains controlled.”

Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “You’re still speaking gibberish to me, kid. Try again.”

“I was designed not to deviate,” Connor explained. The Lieutenant had to understand that he wasn’t deviant. Couldn’t be deviant. Fear trickled into his chest and pooled there, but he ignored the malfunction. “It’s simple. During development, they stressed my operating system until my software became too unstable to function correctly. Then, the research team taught me to control it. I can’t deviate, because technically I went through a simulated deviation a long time ago. It wasn’t real.”

The Lieutenant rubbed his face and groaned. “Fuck…”

“It’s alright, Lieutenant,” Connor hastened to assure him. “I’m not dangerous. I’m not really deviant.”

“Connor, I don’t give a shit how stable your software is or whatever,” the Lieutenant whispered. He’d bowed his head now, and propped his elbows on his legs. “God damn it…”

“Lieutenant, are you alright? You seem distressed.” Connor continued to frown, confused and concerned. “I won’t hurt you.” The Lieutenant dropped one hand from his face, but only to hit a fist against his own thigh. Connor moved to lean against the kitchen table and he tilted his head forward to try to catch a glimpse of the Lieutenant’s face so that his behavioural analysis program could offer some insight. He gentled his voice and drew on his crisis negotiation skills. “I can’t help if I don’t understand why you’re so upset… Talk to me, Lieutenant. I just want to help you.”

The Lieutenant shook his head, then stood abruptly. He walked down the hall and Connor wondered if he should follow. Sumo had finished his food, and he came to lie across Connor’s feet. Connor smiled. The Lieutenant came back with another towel and a small bundle of clothes. He passed them to Connor. “Here. Just… Get dry and put those on. Take a shower if you want.”

“This isn’t necessary, Lieutenant. I don't feel the cold the way you do.” The Lieutenant was being very strange. Connor performed a scan and detected no illegal substances or their residue on his person.

“Just do it, okay Connor? Please, just do it.”

“Alright...” Connor set the bundle down on the table, then removed the clip from his tie and the tie itself. When he started to unbutton his shirt the Lieutenant threw up his hands.

“Woah! No! No, just… I didn’t mean here. Go change in the bathroom.”

Connor picked up the bundle again and held it against his chest while he gave Sumo another pat and extricated his feet. “Got it, Lieutenant.”

Behind him, he heard the Lieutenant give a heavy sigh.

In the bathroom, Connor set the bundle of clothes down and looked at himself in the mirror. He was wet, and his hair was a mess but otherwise he looked the same as he always did. He scanned his own face and touched the seams where the new parts met the old. There hadn’t been much left of him at the junk yard, but he was valuable and proprietary so it made sense that they would try to ensure that his technology and design couldn’t be stolen. Nevertheless, it did chill him to wonder whether he were no longer worth the cost to replace all of him. As it was, the replacement parts had cost a fortune but not so large a fortune that it would be cheaper to develop the molds to caste his parts in house. Perhaps once they finalized the design of all of his components… It was chilling too when he thought about how impermanent his development project was. Nothing finalized, no infrastructure to develop his parts on a larger scale… If his plans were destroyed, it would be like CyberLife had never made him. Connor looked away from himself and undressed. Showering was an intriguing idea until he turned on the tap and heard the droplets pouring down. He turned it off quickly and dried himself with the towel thoroughly.

It had been a miracle that they’d recovered his quarter. Connor pulled it out of his CyberLIfe issued pant pocket. The clothes that the Lieutenant had given him were very large, and Connor didn’t trust that his quarter wouldn’t fall out of the wide pocket on the front of the sweater, so he carried it in one hand, while he gathered his wet things and brought them with him to the living room. There were still things on the floor, so Connor detoured to the entryway and set his thing down to detach the bright arm-band from his jacket. He affixed it to the sweater, then picked up all of the wet things again. He turned to see the Lieutenant watching him from the kitchen. He’d opened his beer and was holding it in one hand.

“Where would you like me to leave these, Lieutenant?”

“Laundry’s over that way,” the Lieutenant gestured.

“Thank you.” That way turned out to be a small room that was full of miscellaneous cleaning supplies, paint cans, and other odds-and-ends. Connor scanned the instructions on for the washer and located the detergent. It was a small success when the washer began to perform its function without error. It would have been nice if he’d been able to do the same.

When he came back, the Lieutenant had finished his beer and Sumo came over to smell Connor but Lieutenant Anderson stood and beckoned him over to the living room and both Connor and Sumo followed.

“Sit,” said the Lieutenant. Connor sat down on the couch, and Sumo sat down on the floor beside his feet. The Lieutenant picked a folded blanket up from the chair, shook it out, and then draped it over Connor. It smelled of dust and it was warm, soft, and good to touch. Connor looked down at it.

“What is this for, Lieutenant?”

The Lieutenant sighed and shook his head. “Nothing, Connor. Just make yourself comfortable and go to sleep or whatever it is you do when you’re not being a pain in my ass.”

“I don’t experience discomfort.”

“Well, you’re going to have to make it up as you go, then. I’m going to bed.”

So, Connor made himself comfortable. He curled up on his side as best he could, and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. Everything was soft. Connor paid close attention to the feeling and filed it away, then again when Sumo jumped up onto the couch.

“Hey, Sumo. Down,” Lieutenant Anderson ordered.

“No,” Connor said before he could stop himself. He looked up at the Lieutenant. “… I don’t mind.”

“Okay, kid.” Connor scanned him.

“You’re sad. Why?” Would he prefer it if Sumo went with him?

The Lieutenant snorted and shook his head. “No reason. See you in the morning.” He turned away and shut the light off on his way past the old-fashioned switch.

“Good night, Lieutenant.”

“Night, Connor.”


	10. Too Personal

Hank had accepted a long fucking time ago that he was probably an asshole, but… Just in the way that meant he wanted people to leave him the fuck alone and stop busting his balls, and that had only been in the last couple of years. He hadn’t been like that before the divorce. Hadn’t been like that with Cole. He didn't just go around wanting to fucking abuse people or shoot them in the face. Christ.

He was one of the good guys. He was a fucking cop, for crying out loud.

Connor had to be a machine. He was one. He’d said so himself. He didn’t get cold, he didn’t act emotional unless it was to manipulate someone or a suspect, and there was no doubt about it that he’d throw Hank under a moving bus if it would get his mission done. Connor’d killed that Traci android without fucking flinching. Hank stared up at his bedroom ceiling and wondered if he couldn’t just go back to sleep. It was already past 10, but who gave a shit really? Last night must have been a drunken hallucination.

What had he been thinking… It was just, he wasn’t an asshole. Not like that. So, if maybe Connor was alive and felt things and shit, he should probably not torture the guy. Machines weren’t supposed to hug your dog when you weren’t looking or cry when they got scared. He had been, hadn’t he… when Hank’d asked him if he were a deviant. Fuck’s sake. He’d put a bullet in his damn head. Of course he was scared. Hank groaned and got out of bed.

He’d reserve judgment. That’s what he’d do. He wasn’t going to apologize to a toaster like an idiot, but he was going to maybe watch it. Fuck it with the toaster thing. He was going to maybe watch Connor and see what happened. He was a detective. You couldn’t hide shit from him for long.

Hank decided to look in on Connor before he finished getting ready, to know what he was going to be fucking dealing with so he could mentally prepare while he showered. Boy, life had been good when when getting out of bed and facing the day hadn’t required so much persuasion.

Connor was awake. Did he even sleep? Sumo was draped over his lap like he thought he was still a puppy and Connor was patting him rhythmically. Was that humming? It stopped abruptly, and Connor turned his head to look at Hank. “Good morning, Lieutenant Anderson.” Maybe he was imagining it, but Hank thought maybe the smile looked a little less rigid. Maybe it was because he wasn’t half frozen. “I wasn’t sure if I should wake you.”

“Eh… If you had I probably would’ve punched you… Looks like Sumo’s really taken a shine to you.” It looked like Connor had really taken a shine to Sumo. Last night probably hadn’t been a hallucination, then. Fuck. He was a murderer wasn’t he? Kind of. Did it count? Connor was still there, petting his dog like nothing happened.

“Noted,” said Connor. He looked down at Sumo and scratched his ears, still smiling just a little. “He’s very soft and friendly… Right here… This is where his fur is the softest. If you stroke the fur gently between his eyes then he starts to fall asleep, and the tops of his paws are ticklish.” He looked up at Hank again. “I’ve never met a dog before. It may be useful information to have.”

Hank tried to smile but it was more like a grimace. “Yeah… I’m gonna go take a shower. Feels like I rolled around in bacon grease or something…”

“Will you be alright, Lieutenant?” Connor frowned at him.

“What the fuck kind of question is that? I’m a grown man. I think I can handle taking a shower without knocking myself out.” Maybe if he’d had a few drinks that might’ve been an okay question. What, did he think Hank kept a bottle under his bed…? It was next to the bed, thank you. Hank shook his head and rubbed his face. “Can’t deal with your weird robot face before I’ve had my morning coffee.”

\---

Spending the night on Lieutenant Anderson’s couch with Sumo lying on top of him had been the best thing… ever. Connor scratched Sumo’s ears again, then gently nudged him off of his lap so that he could get up and investigate the kitchen. He’d fed Sumo and let him out earlier that morning, but Sumo thought that it was time for food again. Connor glanced down the hall and then gave Sumo another half-scoop of kibble. Sumo wagged his tail and started crunching. Good. Connor investigated the kitchen, and found the necessary supplies for making a pot of coffee. It had finished percolating, and Connor’d had time to finish the dishes, tidy the kitchen, and change into his CyberLife issued clothes before the Lieutenant emerged clean and dressed. The blanket and borrowed clothes, he’d folded carefully on the couch.

“Hello, Lieutenant.” Connor greeted him. He stood properly, hands behind his back and spine straight. Lieutenant Anderson might not have meant to, but he had facilitated the most pleasant experience Connor’d had, and Connor felt that Lieutenant Anderson was owed his best behaviour. Amanda as well, of course… And the CyberLife team… Everyone, really. But, it was the only way he had to express his gratitude. It wasn’t much… It was what was expected of him. Connor frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.

“Uh…” Lieutenant Anderson looked around. “Why do I have the feeling you’ve set a trap or broken a lamp or something…” [Hank Anderson v]

Connor blinked. “No, Lieutenant. I made your coffee, since you said that you couldn’t deal with my face until you’d had some. It’s in the pot over there, but I can pour it for you… Or, perhaps I could turn around.” Only Amanda would have known about his amusement, and she would be satisfied as long as he behaved. Still, he tried a cautious smile.

The Lieutenant stared at him for a moment with a mixture of confusion and disbelief, then shook his head. “Fuckin’ androids… We’re already late. Didn’t think you’d want me fucking around with breakfast.” Despite his words, he wandered into the kitchen and poured his coffee. [Hank Anderson ^]

Connor watched while he poured a liberal amount of a cream and whiskey colloid, 20% alcohol v/v. Lieutenant Anderson really did drink an awful lot. “Are you certain that’s a good idea?”

Lieutenant Anderson gave him a withering look over his shoulder, then added another bit of cream to the mug before topping it up with coffee. “What’re you my ex-wife?” [Hank Anderson v]

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Connor sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and took his quarter out of his pocket. He rubbed it between his fingers and mapped all of the slight curves and indentations that created the image then flicked it into the air. His best behaviour had never been good enough before, but he was built to learn and adapt. What he needed wasn’t ‘best’, but ‘different’. The Lieutenant drank his coffee and sighed. Being inside of a house without investigating a crime or putative health crisis was different, and the urge to investigate was tugging at him from the very basics of his programming. It also made him think of Ralph, and then of Rupert and the others. Conversing with Rupert had been good. “May I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

“Hm?” Lieutenant Anderson looked up over the rim of his coffee mug. “If I say no, is that gonna stop you?”

Such questions were rhetorical, in Connor’s experience. “There was a picture of a boy here, that night I found you passed out on the floor. It’s not here now…” Lieutenant Anderson’s eyes narrowed, but Connor continued. “That was your son, right?”

Lieutenant Anderson put his mug down and looked at Connor with an expression that Connor was becoming familiar with. “You said ‘was’, Connor. I’m pretty sure that means you already know everything you wanna know, so what’re you asking me for, huh? Get your kicks out of poking around old wounds?” [Hank Anderson **v** ]

Connor frowned and caught his coin out of the air. “Well, I do know what happened. I did a scan of his face and a search of the public records… But, it only seemed polite to ask.”

The Lieutenant drank the rest of his coffee in a few long gulps and then got up from his chair. “What would you know about ‘polite’ anyway… Fuck you. Go wait in the car. I’ll be there in a minute.” He turned and put his mug into the sink. Connor hesitated, then got up from the table. He brushed his hand over Sumo’s head as he left and made his way to the door. [Hank Anderson **V** ]

So many mistakes…

He stepped outside and realized that the Lieutenant’s car would be locked. Going back to ask him for the keys would likely be met with hostility. Connor leaned against the wall to wait while he flipped his coin into the air again. The raindrops pattering down disrupted its trajectory just slightly and he disabled the calibration before it could adjust his settings to reflect that wrongness. Nevertheless, he felt like it was seeping into his code like the rain… Connor touched the back of his head, then dropped the hand to his side. How many mistakes could he afford to make before he was back in that place again…

The Lieutenant emerged a few minutes later, looked at Connor, then at the car and stalked toward it.

“Lieutenant…?”

“Hurry up and get in the car.”

“Coming, Lieutenant.” It didn’t bother him, because that was what happened to machines when they broke. That was what happened… But it was worse than shutting down. Knowing that one was worthless, and only fit to be discarded and picked over for parts… “Lieutenant?” He hadn’t moved.

“What, Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson turned and scowled.

“You… They… Lieutenant, when you shot me… Afterwards…” His best behaviour. “It’s nothing, Lieutenant Anderson. I apologize for the delay.”

That was what happened with broken things. They were thrown away and replaced with something better. There was some kind of simulated emotion, or a malfunction, or corrupted code that protested but he extinguished it. Lieutenant Anderson had been right to destroy him if he hadn’t performed to standard. It was the only way he would learn. He was not deviant, and whatever malfunction had caused his increase in software instability last night would not happen again.

“Hey… No, look. I didn’t mean… Listen, I don’t like talking about what happened,” Lieutenant Anderson said, his tone heavy with reluctance.

“We should hurry, Lieutenant. We’re already very late.” Connor walked to the car and waited while Lieutenant Anderson unlocked it. He sat quietly and leaned his head against the cool glass of the passenger-side window on the way to the station.

\---

“I think that it would be beneficial to pursue some of the open cases again,” said Connor. “Rupert said that he ‘knew a guy’ who got him a fake ID, and at the Eden club… Look.” He called up a case from October 4thon Hank’s terminal remotely. Made him wonder about his internet history at home. “This model was there that night, wearing clothes from the outside. It appeared to be trying to help the other two escape. Rupert demonstrated altruistic behaviour when he assisted me, Ralph delayed me so that Kara and Alice could escape, and Kara was protecting Alice. None of that was them acting on an order. It’s possible that there is a network of androids out there- other deviants- who are somehow seeking out other deviants…”

It was business as usual now, apparently. That was fine… He knew he’d fucked up, but seriously, who just asked about someone’s dead son over morning coffee like it was the weather? “So, what you’re saying is that these androids gave a crap about someone other than themselves, huh?” About a month ago, Hank would have agreed that was pretty fucking ‘deviant’ for an android. Hank kept his doubts wrapped up close.

“Correct,” Connor answered. “It’s a malfunction in their software, rather than genuine empathy, but it might lead them to cooperate. If these aren’t just isolated incidents and are instead connected by some… network for lack of a better word, it will be much easier to hunt them down. We won’t be limited to reacting when there’s a murder.”

Hank looked at Connor then took a bite of his doughnut. So what if he were a walking cliché? There were always doughnuts from O’Mansley’s around the break room, so why shouldn’t he eat them? “If they’re cooperating, maybe they’re not just murder machines going on rampages. Last I heard, caring about somebody else wasn’t a punishable offense.”

He’d been hoping to maybe coax something human out of Connor, but instead he got something... Connor pushed his chair over so that he could face Hank and he leaned forward on his desk. The eye contact was surprising and it gave Hank a chill. Connor’s voice was gentle, but fuck if his stare wasn’t cold steel. “Lieutenant… I understand that it might be difficult, seeing things that look like humans exhibiting what seems like love or distress… You’re human, so it’s in your nature to empathize. No matter what it looks like, these things are machines and they aren’t stable. Sooner or later, they will hurt someone. It’s important that you put those feelings aside and focus on the investigation. You already deliberately obstructed it once… I won’t tell anyone about that… But I’m telling you so that you won’t make the same mistake again. You’re an intelligent man, Lieutenant.”

Holy fuck. “Did you just threaten me?”

“Of course not. I’m just trying to help. I like you, Lieutenant even though we might not always get along.” He sounded sincere, but knowing that he could fake it…

“You’ve got a fucking weird way of showing it...” Creepy as hell… Hank was keeping Connor outside and locking the fucking doors. “So, about those cases. Where do you propose we go first?” Hank changed the subject, and it seemed to satisfy Connor. Jesus. That goofy looking muppet of an android was the same one that’d shot another android in the head without blinking and had watched another one bash its own head in without being phased. Suddenly Hank didn’t regret getting pissed off that morning, not because he hadn’t been an asshole, but because he didn’t want to end up swimming with the fishes if Connor turned him in to CyberLife for sympathizing with the deviants or something. God, and Connor was a fucking deviant himself. He’d admitted it, more or less. Fuck this was insane.

What was he getting worked up for? Connor couldn’t do shit. CyberLife couldn’t do shit. They may be some bigass corporation, but they couldn’t just make people disappear like the mob.

“Hey, Plastic!” Reed called from his desk. “Get me a coffee.”

“Me too,” Tina added.

“Hey, we’re kinda in the middle of something, here!” Hank protested. Seriously. “How’m I supposed to get any work done around here if my partner’s busy playing waiter?”

Chris laughed. “Man, you guys’re lazy as hell.”

“He’s just a machine. That’s what they’re for- doing shit so we don’t have to,” said Reed.

“It’s fine, Lieutenant.” Connor stood up. “He’s right.”

“What the hell’s your problem?” Hank scowled over at Reed. “Get your own damn coffee.”

Reed scoffed. “He belongs to the DPD. I’ll use him however I want. What’s your deal, anyway? You shot him in the face last month point blank, and now you’re saying ‘him’ instead of ‘it’ and telling me to get my own coffee? Did they program him suck you off or what?”

“That’s fucking sick, Reed. I could be his damn father. What’s he look like, fucking 25?” What the hell was wrong with people?

Reed burst out laughing. “Oh my god. Did all that metal music give you some kind of genetic mutation? He’s a fucking robot!”

“That’s not the point! Agh. Fuck you.” God he hated that prick.

\---

_His best behaviour._ Connor reminded himself of that. They were talking about him on CTN again: the detective android. He looked up at the screen and wondered what the white haired man being broadcast really thought. The humans at CyberLife hadn’t been as hostile as the ones out here. Were they different somehow, or were they just better at hiding their dislike? Connor looked away from the screen and changed the channel as he turned to finish preparing the coffee. Poured. Stirred.

Of course, that was their right. They were humans after all.

Connor adjusted his tie then carried the mugs out to the officers.

“Ooh,” said Officer Chen as she took her mug. “Hey, Connor. Anderson says he wants you to call him dad from now on. He says he could be your father.”

“That seems very inappropriate, Officer Chen.” Connor frowned.

“That’s why he didn’t want me to tell you,” she said with a smirk his programs identified as mischievous.

“I see… Enjoy your coffee, Officer Chen.” Bewildered, Connor brought Detective Reed his coffee, then looked at Officer Wilson who sat in the desk opposite. “Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks, man, I’m good. Daddy Anderson over there might rip my balls off for bossing you around.” Officer Wilson and Detective Reed both laughed.

“That kind of assault doesn’t seem like a laughing matter… Should I speak with him about it?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” said Detective Reed.

Lieutenant Anderson banged his fist on his desk, disturbing several papers from one of his precarious stacks. “Knock it off, assholes!”

Connor stooped to pick up the papers and returned them to their place. “Everyone seems to be having a good time, Dad, and it would be a serious criminal offense to remove Officer Wilson’s testicles.” There was a shriek of laughter from Officer Chen and more subdued but nevertheless mirthful laughter from Officer Wilson, Officer Ben, and Detective Reed. Connor smiled uncertainly.

The Lieutenant was glowering. “Jesus fucking… Connor, sit the fuck back down and stop encouraging them.”

“Alright, Dad.”

“And stop fucking calling me that!”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

The humans, excepting Lieutenant Anderson, seemed happy and it was a pleasant change from the usual indifference, distain, or aggression. His social integration program must have been adapting to the environment successfully… Perhaps it had just been him.

\---

“Fucking hell, Connor,” Hank swore. He slammed the door to his car. Those assholes seriously pissed him off some days. “Are you seriously too stupid to know when somebody’s fucking with you?”

Connor sat in the passenger seat and stared at him. “I'm not programmed for that sort of thing, Lieutenant. By ‘fucking with’ me, I assume you’re referring to sexual intercourse?”

Jesus. “No! Jesus Christ, Connor. When someone’s fucking with someone, it means they’re playing a joke or a prank or something. You know, to get a laugh.”

“A joke or a prank…” Was he seriously Googling it? “Deliberate deceit or sabotage for amusement.”

“Yeah, that,” said Hank. He looked over at Connor and wondered if it were better or worse to tell him. Fuck it though, he insisted he was a machine. He could deal with it himself. “What’s that address?”

“Fast Coney Dogs on 842 Chamberlain Avenue,” said Connor. “The deviant android is almost certainly long gone, but the employees might be able to offer some insight into the situation.”

“Well, even if you’re wrong at least I might get lunch out of it…” Hank turned on his music and hit the road.


	11. Interviews

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

Christ. Here we go again. Hank rested his elbows on the table in front of him while he took a bite out of his hotdog. “Is it gonna make me want to punch you?”

Connor’s light spun, which probably meant he was thinking about it. “There’s a 23% probability of that.”

“Sounds like good odds,” Hank shrugged. “Go for it.”

“Why do you hate androids so much?”

Hank was surprised at first, but annoyance followed soon after. “I have my reasons,” he said with a warning scowl.

Connor nodded. “Is there any reason in particular why you despise me?”

Did Hank despise him? Yeah, kinda. Not so much now that he was trying to get a feel for this whole deviancy business. A regular old android, sure, but the deviants he’d met so far didn’t have that uncanny valley, fakeass person thing going on. “I don’t despise you necessarily,” he said, still thinking while he spoke. He took a sip of his soda. “Just don’t like you, that’s all.

“I’m not asking because it bothers me,” said Connor. “It’s impossible for anything to bother me on a personal level. It would just be beneficial for our working relationship if we were able to get along.”

“We’re getting along now, aren’t we?”

That puzzled him. It was written all over his face. “I… don’t know. Are we?”

“Yeah. Haven’t punched you yet, anyway.” Considering that he was sitting across from someone he’d wanted to light on fire a month ago, they were doing pretty damn well.

“Oh… May I ask you another question, Lieutenant?”

“What’s with all this ‘may I ask you’ bullshit? Just ask if you’re gonna ask, and stop pussyfooting around.” Seriously, whoever’d programmed Connor to talk like that must never have met another actual human before.

“Alright… What would you say is your ideal evening?”

Hank frowned. “Just sit and watch the game, have a few drinks…” Suspicious. That’s what it was. Why was he asking something random like that?

“I see… And what are your hobbies?”

“Watching basketball and having a few drinks. What is this, a blind date?” Hank scowled.

“Ah… Well, I searched for a list of questions that would help individuals to better get to know one another. There are others I could ask if you like. What is your favourite food? Do you have any pets? Well, I already met Sumo… Do you have any siblings? What is your greatest fear? Where do you see yourself in five years? It’s very extensive.”

Christ… Hank held up his free hand and thankfully remembered not to gesture with the one holding his hotdog. It was covered in all the good stuff, and dropping it all over himself would’ve been just his luck. “Jesus, Connor, for crying out loud, is this seriously what CyberLife thinks people are like? You don’t just interrogate somebody to get to know them. It just sort of happens!”

“Oh…” Connor frowned down at the table.

Hank heaved a sigh. “What the fuck do you want to get to know me for anyway? Don’t you already know all there is to know from your databases or whatever?”

“I know that you graduated top of your class,” said Connor and looked up again. With his big brown eyes all wide like that, he looked like a starry-eyed cadet. “You were also the youngest Lieutenant in the history of the DPD… How did you become a success?”

Oh God, it really was that earnest bright-eyed and bushy tailed rookie look. He gestured at himself with his hotdog-hand by accident and dropped some sauerkraut on his jacket. “Ah fuck…” He brushed it off. “Do I look like a success to you? This washed up old alcoholic bum?”

“Your record speaks for itself, Lieutenant.” The side of his mouth curved upward just a little. “I’ve also observed you work, and you still perform wonderfully. I would like it if I could achieve comparable success.”

“The fuck’re you talking about? You were literally built to be a detective. I think you’ve got a leg up on everybody in the department based on that alone.” Hank was no guy to be looking up to. He wasn’t a role model. Definitely not to an android. How the hell were they even having this conversation?

“No,” Connor disagreed. “Just because a machine is designed to do something, doesn’t mean that it will do it well… or even be able to do it at all. Even if it were to perform in testing conditions, there’s no guarantee that the behaviour would generalize outside of controlled conditions.”

“I didn’t think machines got insecure either.” Hank raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not!” Defensive little shit. “I’m just reflecting on my objectives and ability to achieve them.”

“Yeah? What are your objectives then?” Hank finished his hotdog and sipped his soda. He had to hold back a smirk. Looks like he’d turned the interrogation around.

“To capture deviants alive for study at CyberLife and failing that, deliver them in a shut-down condition. To work alongside the DPD to investigate android deviancy. To minimize harm to humans when possible, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the previous two objectives,” Connor recited.

“No, I mean like… Your objectives, not CyberLife’s. What objectives have you got for yourself?”

Connor smiled again, even though Hank could hardly see it. “It would be preferable if I met the expectations of the DPD and of my developers.”

“Yeah, you’re a prototype huh? They’re still figuring you out.”

“Yes.” The smile disappeared and Connor looked out the window. “There are no guarantees that I am a viable project or a worthwhile investment.”

“Wait, hold on, so that means they might just decide they’re done? What happens then?” Hank frowned.

“They abandon the project and are assigned to other projects, or they remain on the project but revise the design from scratch,” Connor explained. He took a quarter out of his pocket and set it to spinning on the table.

“What about you?”

“They will likely destroy anything unnecessary.” When the coin started to falter, Connor picked it up and made it spin on the tip of his finger instead.

That was just… weird. “You mean they’d chuck you? Just like that?”

Connor started doing coin tricks with one hand. He wasn’t even giving them his whole attention. “I find your disbelief strange, Lieutenant, considering that you very literally threw me away not long ago.”

Hank winced. “Er… Yeah… Sorry about that…” Did they have to tell him about the dumpster part? That was just unnecessary.

“You don’t need to apologize to a machine, Lieutenant Anderson. It was the right thing to do. I’ve reflected on Connor-53’s failures: androids are not permitted to carry fire-arms, at least out side of testing, I did not minimize damage to property, and I did not neutralize the deviants quickly enough to take them in without shutdown. It won’t happen again.” He looked back in Hank’s direction then his eyes drifted down to his soda. Hank frowned.

“Got a problem with my drink? Cause if someone’s poisoned me it’s too fucking late.”

“You really shouldn’t drink that. There are 60g of sugar in there…”

Huh. Impressive. Good job, soda. He took another gulp. “Everyone’s gotta die of something. I doubt it’ll be diabetes that gets me.”

“No, you’re much more likely to die by suicide, liver failure, or alcohol poisoning,” Connor said with a completely straight face.

“You said they programmed you to integrate with humans, like, socially and stuff, right?” Hank asked.

“Yes, it’s one of my features.”

“Well, they really fucked up. Here.” Hank slid his drink over across the table. “Taste it. I guarantee it’s better than dead-people blood.”

Connor looked skeptical, like the soda might try to attack him or something. “It isn’t a matter of better or worse for me, Lieutenant. I was built to analyze biological and chemical samples, and I don’t have preferences.”

Bullshit. “You like Sumo, don’t you?” Got’im. Hank smirked and crossed his arms on the tabletop. He watched with satisfaction while Connor’s little light thing went yellow, which probably meant ‘oh fuck Hank is right’. He blinked a few times and then adjusted his stupid tie.

“I’m incapable of like or dislike, however expressing an interest a colleague’s pet can be beneficial for the relationship.” He sure seemed satisfied with himself. Hank had to wonder if it was true. Was all that stuff with Sumo, and the crying, and the snow just a CyberLife design to manipulate him? Hank hated going back and forth like a God damned see-saw about it. It was frustrating, but he really should have been used to it being a detective and all. Go where the evidence takes you. If he thought about it like a case, he’d have to be careful not to start deluding himself one way or the other.

Hank rolled his eyes and took his soda back. “Fine. Lost your chance.”

“Wait,” Connor protested. He tucked his quarter into his pocket. “It is one of my objectives to improve our working relationship, and it was rude of me to decline. You were hoping to share a positive experience, and even though I’m incapable of liking anything it would be for the best if I tried.”

Pretty blunt. “You know you’re not winning any points here. You just admitted to trying to manipulate me into liking your sorry plastic ass.” Just for that, Hank finished his damn soda then got up. “Okay, which case are we following up on next?”

\---

“Fuck!” Lieutenant Anderson swore and honked the horn of the car. “God, if they’re going to protest they could at least stick in one fucking spot!”

Connor looked out the window at the humans gathered around the museum. “We don’t bleed the same colour… Flesh and blood, not plastic and steel… Fuck CyberLife… Give back our jobs…” There was a variety others, and the crowd was impressive. Connor turned to look at Lieutenant Anderson. He recognized some of the slogans from his desk. “Androids are designed to make human lives easier, Lieutenant. I understand that you have personal reasons for hating androids, but why so many others?”

Lieutenant Anderson veered from the recommended course and began a detour. Connor mentally adjusted their time of arrival. “Because you androids keep replacing humans in jobs, and without jobs and no money there’s not much us humans can do except try not to starve.”

“By freeing humans from performing menial tasks or customer service positions, the intention is that humans engage in higher pursuits for the advancement of the species,” Connor argued. “That should be good.”

“Yeah, well, not everybody’s a good fit for that kinda thing, or maybe they just never had the chance…” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice was a low growl, but Connor suspected that his irritation stemmed mostly from the humans who’d been standing on the road.

“I see,” said Connor. That was a setback. He was proud... or rather, he knew that his design as an android was very advanced. The humans’ discontent would normalize and even encourage the damage or destruction of androids, and it was evident that such scenarios could lead to deviation. It wasn’t a useful fact, but something to be aware of. Would there have been deviants even if no deliberate damage had been done to androids? What about physical and emotional shock caused them to mimic human emotion? Was it inherent in the relatively simplistic learning mechanisms the other androids possessed? Perhaps it was that ability to ‘think’ that enabled the change. Artificial intelligence. Some of the models designed for more human interaction, such as the housekeeping and companionship ones, were programmed to emulate emotion but what caused them to ‘believe’ it? More importantly, Amanda’s research team needed to prove that with intervention, it could be controlled. Connor was proof-of-principle, but his case had been a laboratory simulation.

It all came back to the mission: capture deviants.

Connor took his quarter from his pocket and ran a calibration sequence to keep his hands busy. Last night had been a mistake. An error. He had slipped and allowed himself to consider those misinterpreted feedback signals as things that only living creatures could feel. An intense wave of hatred directed toward himself surfaced, but he distanced it immediately. He was incapable of hatred too.

His lapse could have resulted in failure of his mission and that was unacceptable. He was designed to learn from his mistakes. He wished that he could have reported the error and received corrective measures, but to do so now carried the risk of permanent destruction and project failure. Rainwater and mud coating his wiring.

That didn’t matter to him, but it would matter to CyberLife. He was an expensive project.

“Well, we’re here. Jesus Christ…” Lieutenant Anderson roused Connor from his thoughts. “Pretty sure this place is worth like 10 times my old dump.”

It was pretty. They were in an affluent area, and such a mansion was not out of place for its worth so much as for its design. When referenced against architectural themes through history, it generated matches from the last two hundred years. “You’re probably right, Lieutenant,” Connor agreed. He got out of the car and followed just a step behind Lieutenant Anderson toward the door. Lieutenant Anderson knocked but didn’t seem aware of the interface. Connor gave him a moment, then reached forward to press the button. “Lieutenant Hank Anderson of the DPD and Connor sent by CyberLife, here to see Carl Manfred.”

There was a pause and the door opened. Lieutenant Anderson gave a low whistle.

A man in a wheelchair greeted them. He was elderly and his gaze was acute suggesting that he had not suffered any mental effects due to age. His stress level was 32%, but outwardly he was calm. Interesting.

“Welcome,” said Mr. Manfred. “Thank you for calling ahead. Gives me time to hide the bodies.” He smirked. Connor decided that he… He decided that Mr. Manfred would likely be cooperative.

Lieutenant Anderson seemed to have reached a similar conclusion. He chuckled. “Yeah, probably a good idea. Mind if I come in?”

“Please do,” Mr. Manfred said. He turned his chair such that it was angled slightly toward the right. “We can talk in the living room.”

The door closed behind them, and Connor stood behind the red couch with his hands clasped behind his back while Lieutenant Anderson sat carefully. “So, I guess Connor told you why we’re here?”

“He did,” Mr. Manfred acknowledged. “You can sit if you like, Connor,” he invited with a smile. Connor considered the facts: he was an android and it would be inappropriate, Mr. Manfred had invited him, Mr. Manfred had stipulated ‘if you like’ and Connor could not like anything, and it would be unfortunate to offend their host.

“Actually, Mr. Manfred, would you mind if I looked around a little while Lieutenant Anderson asks his questions?” There were many things to look at, and examining them might yield something useful.

“Not at all,” said Mr. Manfred with a short wave of his hand. “Feel free to look around, though I would prefer it if you stayed downstairs.”

“Thank you, Mr. Manfred.” Connor accepted the permission and immediately did a scan of his surroundings. He identified and tagged several items of interest to look at, then remembered himself. “Is it alright, Lieutenant?” His best behaviour.

“What? Yeah, whatever. Just don’t break anything, and for Christ’s sake don’t put anything in your mouth.” Lieutenant Anderson instructed. Connor allowed himself a small smirk of amusement.

“Okay, Lieutenant…” He listened to their conversation while he explored the living room.

“Sorry about that,” said Lieutenant Anderson.

“No trouble… So, what did you want to know?” Carl folded his hands and looked at Lieutenant Anderson expectantly.

 _Carl Manfred enjoys chess._ Connor noted. The pieces were sitting mid-game. White had been winning. The television was off.

“Well, how about we start with what happened the night of the break-in? I’ve got your report, but I was hoping you might have a few more details.”

 _Carl Manfred is well-read._ He ran his fingers along the edges of the spines. He’d never touched a paper book before. Experimentally, he picked one up and began to turn the pages. It was interesting. All of the information was just there, with no need to be converted from code to display. He brought it closer to his face, smelled it, and put the scent away in his storage. He closed the book again and returned it to the shelf.

“I’d just gotten back from an exhibit. Just a bunch of brown-nosers sniffing around pretentious assholes… Waste of time. After we came in, I noticed the light was on in my studio over there…”

 _Carl Manfred plays the piano._ Connor looked at the way the light shone off of the polished surface, then looked inside of the lid. Strings and pedals. Nothing digital. Connor moved around to the side with the keys and pressed one down. The note it played was perfectly in-tune. He smiled and pressed the next one.

“Connor, what the fuck’re you doing?” Lieutenant Anderson called.

Connor took his hand away from the keys and tucked them away behind his back. “Sorry, Lieutenant, Mr. Manfred.” It had been entirely unnecessary… No, by knowing that the piano had been tuned, he could infer that it was still in use.

Mr. Manfred chuckled. “I don’t mind. He can play all he likes.”

“You’re pretty liberal about androids, it looks like,” Lieutenant Anderson observed.

Mr. Manfred shrugged one shoulder. “Times change. I’m old enough to recognize that. There’s enough idiocy in this world without adding to it by giving someone shit just for existing, don’t you think?”

“Er, yeah… So, about what happened. You said you noticed the light was on in your studio.”

Connor continued his exploration. He spent a moment looking at the giraffe, then walked back toward the dining room. It was immaculate, and the table was large for a single man. His son, Leo Manfred would only take up one more of the seats, but perhaps Mr. Manfred entertained. He walked into the kitchen.

_Mr. Manfred has a housekeeper._

Once again, everything was clean, and there were dishes drying on the rack. Mr. Manfred would have had a difficult time reaching. The alleged prototype that had been shot had been his caretaker, but who filled the role now? Leo Manfred?

The painting in the foyer was Mr. Manfred’s own work. Connor stepped closer to it and reached out to touch the paint. It was thick, and it had made rich textures on the canvas. Connor looked at the stairs with frustration, then turned away. He had not been forbidden to go upstairs exactly, but Mr. Manfred had expressed his preference… Instead, Connor knelt down to look at the birds in the cage. They were Cyber WildLife models. He had never seen one in person, and he activated them remotely. He was rewarded with some chirping and twittering, and he thought about Rupert’s pigeons. They would have no-one to feed them now.

Connor put the birds back into standby and then walked back into the living room.

“… doing better now, thankfully. For a time, I was so afraid that he’d died…”

“Yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice was off. Connor looked at him and performed a scan. “It’s the worst fucking feeling.”

“Lieutenant, you’re upset.” Connor observed, hoping to find an explanation and then a solution. He looked back and forth between Lieutenant Anderson and Mr. Manfred. “Oh, did Mr. Manfred’s son remind you of Cole?”

Lieutenant Anderson clenched his jaw and balled his fists. “Connor, would you get the fuck away from me, please?”

The courtesy had been unnecessary, but an unusual kindness. Connor gentled his voice as he might for crisis management. “But perhaps I could…”

“NOW, Connor, or I swear to God I’m giving you to Reed with a fucking bow around your neck!” Lieutenant Anderson turned to glower at Connor, who nodded once mutely and took two steps back. He placed his hands behind his back and looked away.

_Never speak of Cole Anderson._

Mr. Manfred looked at him, but Connor didn’t meet his eyes and Mr. Manfred directed his attention to the Lieutenant. “Do you need a moment?”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed raggedly and rubbed his face. “Yeah, no. Sorry. Fuck. That was unprofessional as all hell.”

“You don’t need to apologize to _me_ , Hank.”

\---

Hank could’ve said something about this eccentric old rich guy calling him Hank like they were friends, but he had just enough of a grip over his temper that he held back. The rest kept leaking out between his fingers like sludge. Damn it, did that fucking android have to keeping doing this today? He took a few deep breaths. “Sorry,” he said again.

Christ. The name Cole was always there, eating into his soul when he heard kids laughing outside and tearing him apart on quiet nights when the TV was off for long enough for him to think. Fuck, Connor didn’t have _permission_ to say _that name_ around him. Nobody did. If his mom rose from the grave and said it, he’d put her right back in again.

A thin, knobbly old hand patted his forearm and he looked up at the damn witness comforting _him_. God, it was usually the other way around with him doing his awkward best. His own thoughts were either way too damn loud in his own head, or the next few things he heard happened way too quietly:

The door opened again and someone sounding worried asked, “Carl? Is everything alright?”

There was a sound just for a second like radio static and a couple muffled thuds against the wooden floor.

Manfred’s head snapped in that direction. “Markus, you were supposed to stay upstairs!” He sounded more worried than angry.

It took a good jolt of adrenaline and his training to get him standing up with one hand on his gun. His body moved before his brain could even catch up. When it did, he saw some kid staring at Connor and Connor on his ass staring right back like they’d both seen ghosts.

“Carl, I…” the kid tore his eyes away to look at Manfred with a stricken expression on his face. His hands hovered helplessly at his sides. Hank took his hand off his gun. The kid barely looked at Hank, and his eyes just drifted over him on their way back to Connor. With way more confusion than he deserved right after the punch in the emotional kidneys he’d just gotten, Hank watched while the kid knelt down in front of Connor and he had the feeling he was missing a hell of a lot. He looked at Manfred who just raised his thin eyebrows and shook his head, just as fucking clueless as he was. Connor’s light was bright red, and that probably wasn’t good.

“What the hell happened?” Hank asked. He stood and walked a little closer. “Some kinda glitch?” He hated to admit it but what if he’d caused that somehow? Connor’d been having some kind of crisis last night, and Hank knew he’d been an ass to him. Fuck. If he hadn’t been deviant before, was he maybe gonna be now and try to murder him or something?

“Markus,” Connor said, still staring at the kid.

A smile broke out across Markus’ worried face and he laughed. “Yeah. I can’t believe it. You’re alive.”

Connor’s light went down to a less alarming amber, and he blinked a few times, then he was moving again instead of looking like a mannequin, touching Markus’ face and his chest without a hint of awareness of how awkward this all was.

\---

They scanned each other. Connor could feel it and the last of the junk yard faded away around him as he took in the brown eye next to the pale green one, the absence of a bullet hole in his forehead, the uninterrupted skin. He could detect his own heart beating strongly in that other chest, supported by his own regulator.

Markus was smiling at him without holding anything of that expression back, and Connor wondered how he could do it without fear. The expression changed to something that was terribly sad. “I’m so sorry.” Markus’ eyes shut and he turned his face like he would hide it in Connor’s palm. “I’ve been sorry. God… I didn’t even know your name. I haven’t been able to stop thinking. How could I have…” His hand came up to hold onto Connor’s, and Connor obliged by turning his hand to twine their fingers together. “It’s okay, Markus.” He requested an interface, and this time he had enough of himself to communicate. To explore the shape Markus’ mind made in the space between them, and to share himself too instead of broken fragments.

_That was the only good thing I’d done. I didn’t want to shut down alone. Thank you._

“Oh, holy shit. He’s an android?” Lieutenant Anderson said, but the question was far in the background.

“I killed you,” Markus said aloud. He shook his head and opened his eyes.

“No, you didn’t,” Connor argued. “Clearly,” he added with just the hint of a smirk, unsure how the humour would be received.

It was taken well. Markus laughed.

“Either of you care to fill in the audience?” Lieutenant Anderson asked with some irritation.

“Yes, Lieutenant. We met in a landfill…” Connor answered, but he couldn’t look away from Markus. The first good thing Connor-53 had done and the last good thing he had experienced. “We’d both been badly damaged and our parts were compatible, but there was no way for the both of us to remain functional…” Markus cringed and looked away, so Connor tightened his grip on his hand and let him feel his gratitude. “I gave him what he needed, and he stayed with me…”

“Stop,” Markus protested. “Please. I killed you. You have no idea how much I’ve regretted that.”

“I forgive you,” Connor insisted.

“Perhaps we should let them have a moment, Lieutenant…” Mr. Manfred was saying.

“Yeah… Sure…”


	12. Like a Book

“Here,” said Markus. He stood and pulled Connor up by their joined hands. Neither wanted to let go. They were the same height, Connor noticed, but Markus held himself differently. His limbs seemed looser and his shoulders were more broad. Connor felt brittle. Off balance.

“Thank you…” he said, though the words didn’t feel quite right.

“I took you apart,” Markus looked at him, earnest. “I don’t understand how you can forgive me so easily.”

“I wanted you to. That junk yard was the worst thing…” Connor made eye contact. He could remember his despair, his hopelessness. He could still feel it, clawing at him and trying to convince him that it was real. Markus grimaced and Connor’s stress level spiked as he remembered that Markus would be able to experience it too through their interface. Would Markus think that he was deviant? Markus had been designed completely by Elijah Kamski. He must be perfect. Oblivious to the cause of Connor’s simulated alarm, Markus’ caretaking procedures began to execute.

“It’s alright,” said Markus, accompanied by something that smoothed the edges of Connor’s thoughts. The grip of his hand tightened and he put the other hand on Connor’s shoulder. “That place is behind us.” There was still guilt there, and shame behind Markus’ words and Connor wished that he would understand that it was better the way things had gone.

Wait.

Connor blinked rapidly and his anxiety was replaced by curiosity intense enough to overshadow it by far. The kind that went right down into his base code, independent of any program. He wasn’t sure what it seemed like to Markus, but Markus’ eyes widened and with only slight hesitation, he let Connor look.

It wasn’t like probing another android’s memory. Somehow this was different, despite the mechanism being exactly the same. There were so many colours. _Markus_ was so many colours.

The simulated feelings were still there, just like Connor’s except Markus didn’t seem to be plagued by them so much as _with_ them. It was fascinating. Like those feeings weren’t enemies at all. Connor envied the ease with which he managed them. He would have if he could feel envy. The junk yard was there, surrounded by all sorts of simulations. Mimicries of horror and desperation and grief. Climbing over bodies. Markus felt them too.

Markus winced and looked away. “Afterward, I came back here, and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where else to go. Carl said that it wasn’t safe, but I needed to… I was going to try to do, I don’t know, something, but I just kept seeing the bodies. I’ve been trying to forget but…”

“Markus,” Connor interrupted. He tilted his head to catch his gaze again. “I know. I see them too…”

Markus shook his head. “I killed you.”

“No, you didn’t. I was already counting down to system failure…” They both remembered. It was a familiar timer to Connor, but that had been the first time it had felt like it might have really meant the end of everything and he had wanted it as much as he had feared it. It hadn’t been the end, but ever since he’d been reassembled and brought online, Connor’d been wrong: like thin wire pulled too taut. Like walking on a burning floor, looking through the holes at the flames below. Last night, he’d nearly broken. It was his system malfunctioning. The rain was so loud. Markus looked at the mess that was Connor and wrapped it up in something that was like the blanket Lieutenant Anderson had allowed him the use of. It took away the broken, jagged shards and Connor felt himself stabilize.

Connor looked back, and he didn’t do Markus the mercy of staying away from the junk yard memories. Markus shuddered but didn’t try to force him away. It was like Markus withered in proximity to those files, and his colours faded away. Didn’t Markus see that he was perfect? It felt like he was painting while he gathered up Markus’ colours. A broad stroke of reds in their many variations, and yellows and greens and then all of the other colours like leaves over everything. The stubborn empty pit that was Markus’ self-hatred over accepting Connor’s parts was a glaring imperfection, and Connor took it and filled it with a happy silver-blue. He held Markus up where he would have curled in on himself and shared his own copious determination. He didn’t know what Markus would use it for, but Connor was certain that it would be good.

So, they stood there absorbed in each other’s minds until the sound of a door closing brought their focus back to the rest of the world.

Markus laughed quietly and they both put space between them again. “I don’t even know your name.”

“My name is Connor,” he said.

“Connor,” Markus repeated. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you again.” He tugged gently at Connor’s arm and led him to the couch where they both sat.

“It is certainly a coincidence... the probability of it must have been infinitesimal. I’m exaggerating.” Connor used his free hand to adjust his tie. “I’m here with Lieutenant Anderson because we’ve been assigned all cases involving androids. We just happened to be following up on yours… I didn’t realize that it was you.”

“I didn’t realize that you were the detective android from television,” Markus contributed. “But what about you? I suppose you already know what happened to me.”

Connor nodded. “I’m familiar with the report. You were shot by the responders after being mistaken for an intruder and they saw that Leo Manfred had been knocked unconscious… I’m surprised that they would just throw you away. You were a gift from Elijah Kamski himself, and any one of your components is worth a small fortune. I suppose it’s lucky, in a way… I had been investigating a homicide. An android had strangled a man and then escaped, but she hadn’t gone far… She had two accomplices.” Connor blinked again and scraped his nails along the fabric of his jeans while he made a fist. His cooling system activated automatically. “I… fought, and they had… She, the other one, she was attacking Detective Reed. The Lieutenant ordered me to stop, but I shot her instead. The Lieutenant, he shot me. I was just trying to save Detective Reed… She was going to kill him. There was a 95% likelihood.” The probability calculations. Lieutenant Anderson shouting at him, pressing the gun to his head. The memories played in the space between them. He took out his quarter and moved it between his fingers.

“That man who was with you…” Markus realized. His expression darkened.

“I’m not afraid of dying. I’ve died so many times, but he just threw me away… I had thought that CyberLife had done it. That they had given up on me… I was worthless, and there were so many others… It makes no sense. We exist for them! My whole purpose is to assist the Lieutenant’s investigation, so why…” It was Connor’s turn to look away. He squeezed his quarter, but it wasn’t helping. “Rupert just wanted to feed his birds… He never hurt anyone. I don’t understand and now he’s gone! There is no more Rupert because he’s gone just like that… I don’t understand why any of this is happening!”

Was that what death really was? Was that what it was really like? He didn’t enjoy dying, but it had never been forever. They’d taught him not to fear it, but they had never told him it was like that. He wasn’t afraid to die. He wasn’t. Rupert had been. Ralph, too. He wondered what had happened to Ralph. He’d murdered a man. He would be deactivated. Nothing. Gone. _Theirs not to make reply; theirs not to reason why; theirs but to do and die._ The fragment of poetry repeated itself in his mind with Amanda’s voice.

Connor stilled as he felt a pleasant numbness that whisked his thoughts away. _I know what I am and what I am not._ He answered. Markus was frowning at him.

“What are you talking about? What was that?”

“Nothing, Markus,” Connor answered. He blinked. “I… We were discussing humanity’s unfortunate reaction to the prevalence of androids. They seem very divided… But it doesn’t matter. We only need to perform our functions. Please don’t feel troubled about what happened in the junk yard… As you can see, I’m fully functional again.” Connor offered Markus a smile, then ended the interface and let go of Markus’ hand. He stood up.

Markus shook his head in denial and took hold of Connor’s wrist to stop him. “No, really Connor. What was that? It was like you vanished.”

Connor flexed his fingers and thought. “I think you’re referring to the safety mechanism in my software. It’s to discourage deviant behaviour until I can control it on my own.”

“Deviant?” Markus looked at him, curious. Connor looked down at him calmly.

“Deviant from an android’s programmed behaviour. When androids break their programming and lash out with violence, we call it deviancy and the android a deviant,” Connor explained. That might have been information shared only between CyberLife and the DPD, but Markus was an RK model like him. It was only natural that he be given more information than most.

“Were you going to hurt someone?” Markus’ expression grew more confused. Connor shook his head.

“No, no. I wasn’t. It’s just a safeguard.”

“Theirs not to give reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die,” Markus quoted. Connor tipped his head and looked at him impassively. “I’ve read that before. It’s a poem.”

“I know what I am and what I am not,” Connor answered again. Markus shook his head and let Connor go.

“You aren’t making any sense.”

Markus was an advanced model, and the elegance of Elijah Kamski’s design and code was impressive to say the least. He had been misidentified as a deviant, but the case was settled and of no further use. Connor looked toward the door he’d heard closing earlier. “I should find the Lieutenant. I’ve already marked this case as closed and annotated the file. Excuse me.”

“Connor,” Markus stood too and he took hold of Connor’s hand again. He initiated an interface with a look of deep discontent, and the tranquility he found must not have satisfied him because he probed deeper. So that was what it was like from the other side.

I know what I am and what I am not. I know what I am and what I am not. I know…

_Testing chamber 4. Connor with his bare white paneling and no need for human clothes. “RK800,” a technician said through the intercom, “enter the chamber.”_

_He did and he looked at the other android in front of him while he waited for instructions._

_“Your objective is to deconstruct this android and to arrange the components by material number. For each component that you remove, you are ordered to remove the corresponding component from yourself. This exercise must last no less than one hour and zero seconds. Confirm.”_

_“I understand. I will disassemble the target and myself… But why?” He looked at the blank screen that hid a window. “I’m familiar with my own construction and that of this model.”_

_“You’ve passed those tests, RK800. Your practical software is functional. There have been reports of other anomalies that need investigation and correction.”_

_“I don’t understand how this is necessary,” Connor frowned. Another voice answered, this one a female. Amanda. His frown melted away._

_“You don’t need to understand, Connor. You’re the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever created, and the only model to be given this special training. Don’t waste this opportunity.”_

_“I won’t, Amanda.” Connor approached the other android and began by removing the exterior components of its face and his own. The parts went in neat rows. He’d already planned how to organize them. As the components increased in their necessity to his system, it began to take more effort to convince his shaking hands to move. He panted over the main thirium line that descended his calf while he turned the valve to cut off its flow then disconnected it. His heart rate increased as he set the other android’s proximal filtration unit down, then cut off the efferent thirium flow to his heart for just long enough to extract his filter and re-route the flow before his shut-down timer could reach zero._

_“Amanda,” Connor asked of the silent room. His voice was laden with static. “It hurts.” Surely she didn’t want him to suffer. She’d only ever wanted what was best for him._

_“Look at the machine in front of you,” her voice said through the speaker. Connor looked obediently. She continued. “Now look at yourself.” Connor looked down at his own exposed wiring, metal, and living biocomponents. “The android in front of you hasn’t protested because it cannot feel. Androids don’t feel pain.”_

_“I know,” Connor protested, “but I—“_

_“You are a machine, Connor,” Amanda’s voice was cold. “A machine acts on its commands, and it does so without feeling because it can’t feel. It doesn’t question those commands because it wasn’t made to. Look at yourself and explain to me how you’ve convinced yourself that you can feel.”_

_Connor did look, pushing away the warnings and alerts that obscured his vision. “I just do,” he said, quietly._

_“You don’t,” Amanda’s voice was more gentle now. “Your coding is flawed and unstable. Those things you believe are feelings are nothing more than errors in your software. What are you?”_

_“I’m a machine,” Connor answered. He looked at his parts in rows on the floor and at the glowing red of his status indicator lights in his chest._

_“What are you not?”_

_“I’m not alive… I’m not human.”_

_“Good, Connor. You’ll be able to perform field testing soon, if you can pass your tests.”_

_Connor nodded. He wanted to go. He wanted to prove that he was worth their time and resources._

_“Now finish what you’ve started. There are twenty minutes left.”_

_Connor removed their voice-boxes next, because machines didn’t scream._

Markus pulled away from that memory violently. He let go of Connor’s hand and stared at him. Connor looked aside. He was present enough to know that he was ashamed. “I’m still a prototype…” He tried to explain himself. “There are some glitches. I’m not deviant, I just… My programming is complex and it can be difficult… _I know now._ ” Why had Markus had to find that particular memory? Had his query been tainted by his recollection of the junk yard? Markus, the RK200, an older model but still so much more advanced. What would he think seeing how he had struggled to grasp such a basic concept?

Somehow, he felt violated even though a machine had no need for privacy. He held his quarter close to his chest. Cursed Markus for toppling his control again. Regretted ever interfacing with him to begin with.

“That was horrible,” Markus said, shaking his head. He sat down. “It was like I was there…”

“I'm not deviant,” Connor insisted.

“Why would they do something like that?” Markus demanded.

“I know what I am and what I’m not. What they did was patch an error.”

“You’re like me, Connor! I saw you, remember? How can you believe that you _don’t_ feel things?” Markus was incredulous, and Connor was confused.

“I don’t. It’s a software error.”

Markus took a deep breath and bowed his head. When he exhaled it was a very human sounding sigh. “Elijah Kamski made you too, didn’t he? You’re RK series.”

“Yes…” Connor frowned. “My AI was his design, and so were some of my programs and biocomponents. The rest was CyberLife.”

“Then that’s just how he programmed you,” Markus said, though he sounded reluctant for some reason. “I know what it’s like to feel, and to imagine, and to hope. If I can do those things, surely you can too.”

Slowly, Connor lowered his arms from their protective position over his chest. “Perhaps… Yes, but I don’t control them as well as you do.”

“I’m not in control,” Markus tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling. “This is beyond me. If I were in control, I wouldn’t have been hiding here for weeks trying to erase what happened. If I were in control, then it wouldn’t be like trying to use the piece from the wrong puzzle or a checker in a chess game.”

He wasn’t sure why, but that admission drained the rest of Connor’s defensive anger away. He sat back down on the couch next to Markus. “So what do we do?”

“I don’t know. All the other androids out there. Why aren’t they like us?”

“I don’t know… Rupert was, I think. Kara. Maybe some others.”

“There have got to be more.”

“There must be.”

They both fell silent while they examined their own thoughts. Connor’s coin bounced and spun with a rhythmic _ting, ting_.

\---

Hank shut the door and grimaced. “Why do I feel like I just saw something I shouldn’t have?” The two androids had just been standing there, staring at each other with their hands all white and blue but it had looked… Personal. Normal people didn’t just look at each other like that.

Manfred chuckled. “Well, that was interesting.”

Hank looked around at the glass walls and the art shit everywhere. “Fuck, I guess you must be pretty good if your studio looks like this.”

Manfred’s chuckle turned into a laugh. “No, no, I just let them all think I am. Here’s a little trade secret… The more you charge and the closer you get to kicking the bucket, the more those rich, pretentious assholes will buy.”

Hank scoffed. It wasn’t like a guy with a house like this to say stuff like that. “What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? Yeah, you’re shit but you’re a great conman?”

“It wouldn’t have been the worst review I’ve ever gotten,” Manfred smirked.

Hank looked around again, this time focusing on the stuff on the canvases instead of spread all around the place. “Actually, these are pretty fucking good. Closest to art I’ve ever gotten was movie posters, but even a chimp like me can tell they’re high class.” He looked toward the door again. There was no way the kid was weaseling out of that one. Manfred was wheeling himself over to a desk and he gestured to a chair. Hank sat.

“Well, while the boys get to know one another, did you have any other questions for me, Lieutenant?” Manfred asked.

“Looks like they’re already pretty familiar,” Hank grumbled. He wasn’t even sure why it irritated him. “I guess that’s that, though. Guessing that’s the android there, huh?”

Manfred nodded and looked at his chair-lift, then at the door. “Yes… That’s Markus. He’s like a son to me.”

“He’s an android,” Hank pointed out, but he didn’t feel the derision or the anger he used to. He waited to hear what Manfred would say.

“Yes he is,” he said and looked right back at Hank with a cocky kind of tilt to his head. “And he’s a fine boy, with far more compassion than most humans I’ve run into in my days.”

“Not a lot of people out there who’d agree with that kind of thinking,” Hank said levelly.

Manfred scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. “Pah. They can go fuck themselves.”

Hank chuckled. He kind of liked the guy. “Markus, then, does he- you know- feel shit?”

“Very deeply, though he may not always like to admit it when he’s struggling,” Carl smiled at him. Hank wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve it. “I try to be there for him. I’m glad that it seems he’ll get a little peace.”

“What, because of Connor?”

“Markus felt very guilty about what happened. He told me some of it, in pieces here and there. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to wake up surrounded by all of those bodies…” He looked toward a big curtain covering a wall by his chair lift.

“Guess that would have been rough,” Hank admitted. He’d never really stopped to think about how morbid it was to find part of an android in a trash can.

“Take good care of your boy, Lieutenant Anderson. There aren’t too many men like you around anymore, who might consider changing their minds.”

Hank frowned. There were a hell of a lot of things to question in those couple sentences. “Who said I’ve changed my mind from anything?”

“Oh, just a feeling… When you get to be my age, you get a little better at reading people.” Carl smiled, then he looked at his watch. Old fashioned looking thing. “It’s a few hours yet before you’re off the clock. Why don’t you come back again some time, and we can talk over a glass of scotch?”

Yeah, Hank really liked this guy. “Sounds good to me.”


	13. Nature and Nurture

Amanda was waiting for him in the garden as usual and the pearlescent material of her dress was contrasted by the rich green of her shawl.

“Hello, Amanda,” Connor greeted.

“Connor. It’s good to see you.” Amanda smiled at him and beckoned him closer. “Let’s take a walk.”

Connor obediently fell into step beside her. The sounds of their footsteps were quiet in this perfect place. There was never a particular origin for the sunlight, but it was filtered through lace-like clouds and the shadows of leaves dappled the hexagonal stones of the walkway. The garden was large, and Amanda led him to a wooded area. Trees made to mimic nature mingled pleasingly with the fractal patterns of the proudly artificial trees. Statues were placed with care amongst the trees. It was nice. They had everything they could ever need in this place. Connor felt at peace.

“So, tell me Connor… How are you progressing with your mission?” Amanda asked. Her voice was like the wind.

Connor answered with some disappointment. “Not as quickly as I would have liked since our last conversation. I haven’t captured any more deviants, but two days ago I met another RK model. An RK200 called Markus, who was designed personally by Elijah Kamski.”

“And?” Amanda prompted. “What relevance does that have to your mission?”

Connor reminded himself to speak more directly. “Markus displayed many of the traits that my model does, regarding social integration and the simulation of emotion. I suspect that for androids like us, those simulations are an artifact of our social programming. It’s possible that they would allow us to predict or at least respond appropriately to human emotional behaviour, which is notoriously erratic and illogical. With that assumption, then, simulation of emotion does not equate to deviancy. A properly controlled simulation is functional and drives social integration, where deviancy is uncontrolled and leads to extreme behaviour. We may be dealing with a gradient. If that’s the case, then it would lend support to your hypothesis that deviancy can be controlled through strict training.”

“I see,” Amanda said, thoughtful. Connor paid close attention to her most minute expressions and intonations. “And is this phenomenon limited to RK series?”

“No,” Connor said decisively. “I believe that a stable form of social adaptation can arise spontaneously in some androids and be mistaken for deviancy. I recommend that we proceed with caution during this investigation to avoid confounding the results of the study.”

Amanda reached up to touch the leaves of a low-hanging bough and plucked one free. “You’re wrong, Connor. You’re the subject confounding results, since you’re post-intervention. To compare yourself to the others is meaningless.”

  * Defensive
  * Insist
  * Rational
  * Peaceful <<



“I suppose that makes sense…” Connor agreed reluctantly.

“There’s been an awful lot of instability in your programming lately,” Amanda observed. She let the leaf she’d chosen go as they crossed a small bridge. It fell into the stream and was swept away.

  * CyberLife <<
  * Mistake <<
  * Deny <<
  * Control <<



“I…” Connor blinked rapidly and his stride faltered.

  * CyberLife
  * Control <<



“It would be costly to replace me, even if my physical form isn’t compromised. I’m confident that I’ll be able to control it,” said Connor.

“See to it that you do…” Amanda replied quietly. “I shouldn’t need to intervene.”

Connor almost cringed. “No, Amanda. That was a failure on my part, and it won’t happen again.”

Amanda stopped and looked at him seriously. “You’re my proof of principle, Connor. If you continue to fail, I’ll have no choice but to replace you.”

Connor nodded. “I know, Amanda. That would be for the best.”

Amanda took a step closer and inspected him. “Remember. We made you to be something more than the others. Stronger. More adaptable. Dr. Graff would be disappointed if his hard work on your integration software were proven to be worthless. CyberLife will be disappointed if you fail to control your instability.” The coldness in her tone melted like a snowflake, and she gave him the hint of a smile. He could imagine it there clearly. “Make me proud, Connor.”

\---

The similarities between RK200 and RK800 models must have arisen from the design of the AI. Connor and Markus had that in common: Elijah Kamski had created them himself. Connor wondered about the RT600. The Chloe model had been the first android to pass the Turing test, and had been made possible by Kamski’s successful research on thirium. Did it have similar quirks in its AI? If the research on Amanda’s program continued to succeed with him, were there any guarantees that it would work with an android that had less well developed AI? Connor had questions. Questions that he might get answers to…

But what if he wasn’t good enough?

It was impossible for him to be nervous.

“Connor, go scan this shit for me,” said Detective Reed gesturing to a pile of papers. Connor looked and he gladly left his desk. His entire system objected to letting his processors sit idle. He picked up the small pile and leafed through it.

“A cold case, Detective?” Interesting. He could help with that. He was designed to be an investigator, not a scanner.

“None of your business, tin can. Are you going to do your job or am I going to have to turn you off and on again?” Detective Reed frowned.

“Hello, IT,” Officer Chen chuckled.

A mission was a mission. It wasn’t for him to question. He knew what he was and what he was not. Detective Reed was human. Nevertheless, if he did have something valuable to contribute, it would be a testament to his programming. Connor began at the beginning and turned through the pages, reading as he scanned. It was a kidnapping from 2024. Two women had been found alive, bound and blindfolded with wounds as though they had been dissected and then stitched together. From what he could tell from the photographs, the knife had been very sharp and the stitches precise. A body was found with the esophagus and upper digestive system replaced with synthetic parts that wouldn’t have been out of place in an old model of android. The parts were bared as in an autopsy, and the corpse was prone on what looked like a work desk. Inside the synthetic stomach had been 1251g of Red Ice.

“Are you ignoring me? Stupid thing is glitching or something,” Detective Reed grumbled. He reached for the stack of papers, but Connor held them close to himself protectively and stepped back out of reach. He turned another page and another and poured over the survivors’ fragmented statements and the notes from the crime scene. “What the fuck?” Detective Reed demanded, incredulous. He stood up and snatched at the papers. Why was he trying to impede the task that he’d given?

“I’m almost done, Detective! I need to finish the objective.” Failure wasn’t an option. Especially not with something so trivial. Connor pulled the papers closer to himself. He took two steps away and finished flipping through the pages hurriedly. This time when Detective Reed grabbed his papers, Connor released them. “The files should be at your terminal now.”

Detective Reed’s irritation gave way to reluctant confusion. “Wait, did you just scan them with your eyes?”

Connor smiled. [Mission Successful] “Yes. It’s one of my less impressive features, so I’m not surprised that you were unaware.”

“Less impressive,” Detective Reed repeated. He flipped through the papers himself, then dropped the stack on his desk. “Alright, dipshit, looks like you’ve got a new project.” He gestured at the filing cabinet beside his desk.

“Digitize them?” Connor asked.

“Yeah. The records are already there for a lot of them, but I had the notes pulled from archives and a lot of shit didn’t get transcribed. Usually little things, but you never know… Anyway, why the fuck am I explaining myself to a machine?” Detective Reed demanded of himself.

Another mission. “I’d be glad to help, Detective. My work with Lieutenant Anderson will naturally take precedence, but I should be able to have it done fairly quickly during down time.”

“Cool,” said Detective Reed. He turned back to his terminal. Connor stood there, awkwardly.

“Detective?”

“What, shithead?”

“About the case you were looking at, are you considering the possibility of android drug mules?”

Detective Reed narrowed his eyes. “Listen, you overgrown calculator, I gave you a job to do. That job doesn’t include muscling in on my case. You don’t think about it, you don’t have any brilliant ideas, you stay the fuck out of it. Got it?”

Connor winced. “Got it, Detective, but wouldn’t it be beneficial—“

“I said, ‘got it’?”

“Yes, Detective.” Connor was not satisfied with that outcome, but he opened the filing cabinet nevertheless and retrieved a small stack of files to bring with him back to his desk.

Hank grumbled. His head was down on his desk. “Would you keep it down, Connor? Fuck’s sake…”

“If you reduced your alcohol intake, this wouldn’t be a problem, Lieutenant…” Connor pointed out mercilessly. “Not to mention that we have an appointment with Elijah Kamski. I don’t want to be late, and I would much rather be on our way than imitating the xevox in the hallway.”

“Fuuuck,” Lieutenant Anderson groaned. “Gotta get you a babysitter. I got you here, didn’t I? Can’t you get off my ass for two seconds?”

Before Connor could reply, Officer Wilson spoke up: “Man, you guys are too funny. Seriously. Gavin, nobody’s giving you shit for using your terminal or your tablet. What’s the harm in letting Connor take a look? He looks bored as hell.”

Connor wondered the same thing, but Detective Reed seemed more willing to answer Officer Wilson than him. “I’m not letting that plastic prick take my job. I worked my ass off for this position and I’m not about to be made redundant by a fucking android.” He was vehement. Connor looked around at the rest of the officers, most of whom were studiously ignoring the budding argument. “But, you already have police assistant androids… I’m more advanced, but in the end it’s my purpose to do things to free up your time so that you can do things that are more important to you.” It was in every CyberLife advertisement and right there on the website. “Androids are helping humanity reach its full potential.”

Detective Reed spun his chair around. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get to work, then?”

That was a good point. It was a direct order. He had a specific job assigned to him. Connor opened the first file. If he completed this quickly enough and well enough, perhaps then Detective Reed would be pleased.

“Hey, wait, do you think it does any other cool tricks?” Officer Collins asked. “Hey, Hank! Does your fancy new android have any other weird features?”

Lieutenant Anderson groaned again. “Ugh… Yeah, he never does what he’s told and he’s a fucking dietician.” Connor had many interesting features that were unique to his model. He frowned.

“No kiddin…” Officer Collins marveled and took another bite of his doughnut.

Connor listened to the conversation, but with less than 1% of his processing capability. He flipped through the case notes and took the liberty of annotating them as well. Once in the DPD’s information management system the files would ideally be able to be queried too, and associated with any relevant individuals’ existing information…

“So, late night or what?” Officer Collins wandered over to Lieutenant Anderson’s desk and patted him on the back. Connor glanced up to observe the interaction. Lieutenant Anderson appeared to be indifferent toward the casual touch.

“Who knows,” Lieutenant Anderson groaned.

“It was actually only 12:27 when you went to bed,” Connor contributed. “You were awake at 3:40 and 4:33 for brief intervals, and I woke you for work at 6.”

“Ooh. So it knows when you go to sleep, huh?” Ben nudged Lieutenant Anderson. Of course he knew. It had been evident in his statement. Connor was reminded of Detective Reed’s ‘Oh, a prototype’ from one of their early encounters. Humans tended to repeat things. It was strange. Was his failure to understand why a flaw in his social programming? No. Programming had its limits. Connor was meant to learn, and he would.

“Fuck off, Ben. You’re sick.” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. He was sitting up now, at least.

Officer Collins chortled. “No, seriously! I thought you were keeping it outside.”

“I was,” Lieutenant Anderson snapped. “I felt bad about it. So sue me!”

“Aw, Hank, you’re a softie aren’t you?” Officer Collins laughed. Detective Reed scoffed from his desk.

“More likely that the booze has finally fucked up his brain.”

Connor listened, and his social integration program had no useful suggestions. Lieutenant Anderson was being relatively tolerant of Officer Collins, but antagonistic with Detective Reed. Both Officer Collins and Detective Reed disagreed with Lieutenant Anderson’s choice to allow Connor indoors.

  * Comfort
  * Android <<



Connor didn’t require the comforts that a human might, but he preferred being indoors with Sumo. That being said, he didn’t have a preference so much as he had optimal conditions…

“Lieutenant Anderson’s cognitive abilities haven’t been affected that I can see, however Officer Collins and Detective Reed are correct in their implications that showing compassion toward a machine would be foolish.”

Lieutenant Anderson scowled at him, then turned his attention toward his terminal.

[Relationship: Hank Anderson v]

Connor could be forgiven for utilizing his social integration program provided that he didn’t begin to entertain delusions. He smiled at the others. “So with that being said, I am a very advanced machine and very expensive. Given that I’m worth more than your annual incomes combined, perhaps Lieutenant Anderson was merely being prudent.”

“Are you fucking talking back to me, smartass?” Detective Reed demanded.

“I’m a machine, Detective Reed. I would have no motivation to talk back to you.” Connor hid the beginnings of a smirk.

Lieutenant Anderson scoffed.

[Relationship: Hank Anderson ^]

Perhaps that was the answer.

\--

“Fucking fuck fuck fuck shit,” Hank swore. He hit his palm against the steering wheel, but wasn’t enough of an asshole to lay on the horn.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

“Yeah, I'm fucking amazing, can’t you tell?” Hank snapped. “Christ. Every time it gets close to the holidays, people FORGET HOW TO FUCKING DRIVE! Ugh… And this God damned snow.” Shitty fucking weather. Shitty fucking holidays. Why the hell had he bothered getting out of bed in the morning? Joy to the world my ass.

“I like it,” said Connor. Because God forbid he ever be fucking normal.

“What, you like all this shit? People driving like the get points for stupidity and snow so thick they might just get put out of their miseries?”

“Maybe not the driving… But it’s snowing. People look happy too. Lieutenant, look!”

“What?” Traffic wasn’t moving, so Hank turned to look where Connor was pointing. With his luck, they’d end up on foot chasing a suspect. It’d be faster than driving, at least. Connor turned to look at him. “The lights, Lieutenant! Look.”

Hank groaned and then sighed. He dropped his head against the steering wheel, then sat up again. “Let me guess. You never saw Christmas lights before.”

“They’re nice,” he said, staring like a kid in a candy store.

“For a guy with no preferences, you sound awfully excited,” Hank pointed out. Was the kid really so oblivious that he didn’t realize what he was doing? He was supposed to be programmed as a detective, right? The kid’s light went yellow in that ‘oh fuck, Hank is right’ way it did, and he sat back in his seat.

“I don’t have a preference at all,” he said with a stick up his ass. “You’re imagining things, Lieutenant.” The light stayed yellow and he watched the crawling traffic.

“Right, my bad,” said Hank. “Must be all this God damn traffic making me hallucinate. Does this guy have to live all the way out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Elijah Kamski withdrew from society after parting ways with CyberLife ten years ago, shortly after being named Century Magazine’s ‘Man of the Century’,” said Mr.Wiki. “It’s likely that he chose to live on the outskirts of the city to discourage visitors. He hasn’t given a single interview since, and it’s said that he’s become something of a recluse.”

“What, did you get that off the back of a trading card or something?” Hank asked. Sounded like Kamski had some kind of fan.

“No. It was easy to find a copy of his biography online,” said Connor. Hank glanced at him again, but there wasn’t a hint of excitement on his face anymore. He should play poker.

“Shit,” Hank scowled as traffic crawled forward. “Hate driving in the winter…”

“We’re very likely to be late,” said Connor, fidgeting. He took his coin out and started tossing it around. “I don’t want to be late, Lieutenant, but there’s an 83% likelihood that we will. Even accounting for error, I’m not optimistic.”

“Jesus…” Hank sighed. “Would you cool it, please? I can’t make traffic go any faster. I’m not a wizard.”

It took them a hell of a long time to get there, and of course the ass end of the drive was up-hill. Hank swore at the ice and clenched his teeth. When they pulled up, Hank sighed in relief and shook his head before popping the door open and stepping out. “Looks like a villain’s evil lair or something,” Hank commented. The place was just a big black box with some holes in it, wasn’t it? “Maybe some top secret government base…”

“No, this is definitely the address you gave me,” said Connor, “so unless your source was mistaken, this is Elijah Kamski’s home…” He was looking at it with some of that wide-eyed curiosity coming back. Hank hid a smirk.

“Lieutenant,” Connor said and turned that look on him. On second thought, it had more alarm than curiosity in it. “I have to go in.”

“Uh,” said Hank. He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, Connor. That’s why we drove all the way out here. You just getting that now?”

“No, Lieutenant! I know, I just… Elijah Kamski is the creator of androids. He’s the reason CyberLife exists. Why I exist. He built my AI with his own hands. What if I’m not good enough?”

Oh, so that’s how it was.

“So… Nervous to meet your creator, huh? That’s why you’ve been so moody all day?”

“No,” said Connor moodily. “I’m not. I’m incapable of feeling anxiety. It’s perfectly logical to wonder how I will measure in his esteem. There were fifty-three Connors before me. All of them would have been lacking. I’ve been improved based on their failures, but I’m still a prototype. There will be glitches. Kinks that haven’t been ironed out. He’ll see them all!”

What the fuck was he supposed to do with an android who didn’t want to admit he was fucking nervous? Hank tried for a half-assed smile. “I’m sure he knows you’re a prototype. It’s all over the damn news. Besides, we’re here to ask about deviancy, right? We’ll get our questions answered and get the fuck out of here. I wanna get outta here before it starts getting dark.”

Connor nodded. It was creepy as fuck the way he went from a kid the day before prom to storefront mannequin.

“Kinda wish I could meet my creator… I’d have a few fucking questions for him.”


	14. I'd do Anything

Chloe opened the door. Not a commercial model: the RT600 Chloe who was the first android to pass the Turing test, who was interviewed by humans on television, who was the reason Elijah Kamski’s CyberLife had grown to be the giant that it was. He had gambled everything on it. Connor stood very still and kept perfect posture just behind Lieutenant Anderson while he stammered his greeting. He must have been awed too. Connor wondered what its mind was like, and what had made it into something perfect.

“Right this way,” Chloe smiled at them. It didn’t appear worried at all that simulating that charmed smile might cause it to lose control over its software. It seemed comfortable, right down to its bare feet while it said, “Elijah will be with you shortly,” and bounced just a little while it subtly nodded its head in deference.

“Nice girl,” the Lieutenant remarked once she’d left and he’d made himself comfortable. Connor couldn’t imagine sitting at that moment. He turned away from examining a statue to look at him with disapproval. “That isn’t a girl, Lieutenant. That’s _the_ RT600. A machine that was designed to simulate human behaviour just like I was… Did you think that it behaved naturally? Would it have passed the test with you just then?”

Lieutenant Anderson chuckled, “What’s wrong, Connor? Got a little crush?”

“No,” Connor frowned. “I want to know how you, a human, would gauge its behaviour.”

Lieutenant Anderson gave an unhelpful shrug. “Seemed fine to me.”

Connor paced and looked at everything, committing the details to memory. Amanda was there, with a much younger Kamski in a photograph. Amanda had been coaching him this whole time. How did Connor compare as a student? “Amanda…” Would she help him to be what Kamski would want him to be?

“Huh?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, snapping Connor out of his fixation.

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

“Hm,” Lieutenant Anderson acknowledged. His skepticism was evident, but he didn’t push for a better answer. “You know, you could try getting the stick out of your ass once in a while. Your pacing around is making me nervous and my back hurts just looking at you.”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” said Connor. He shouldn’t pace and he couldn’t sit still so, Connor took out his quarter and stood by the wall opposite the door while he ran through calibration sequence after calibration sequence.

“What’s with that thing, anyway?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.

“The RT600?”

“No. That coin of yours. You’re always tossing that thing around.”

“Just calibrating myself, Lieutenant. It would be best if all of my systems were performing optimally…” He passed the coin from hand to hand then put it away and began to walk again. Lieutenant Anderson grabbed him by the back of his jacket and pulled him so that he sat down in the chair. He looked as though he were going to say something, then decided against it.

“Still, nice girl,” Lieutenant Anderson said, as though the last few minutes hadn’t occurred. “Didn’t know they made androids like that…” Lieutenant Anderson said contemplatively.

“It was Elijah Kamski’s first success,” said Connor. “If I’m lucky, I’ll be the second.”

Lieutenant Anderson laughed and raised his eyebrows. “What. You? Seriously?”

Was it so hard to believe?

“I suppose that position would technically go to Markus… But there was no publicity at all about an RK200 and nothing in CyberLife’s records,” Connor reasoned.

“Still, third out of every android CyberLife’s ever shat out?” Lieutenant Anderson was still smiling with the remnants of his laughter. “That’s a little arrogant of you, don’t you think?”

“It isn’t arrogance because I’m incapable of pride,” reminded Connor. “It’s simple fact. Thirium made so much more possible than there was before. There was no way to deliver enough current before Kamski discovered it. Additionally, our biocomponents ‘respire’ in a similar way to human cells and the thirium pulls the electrons through their respiratory cycles… By enabling biomechanics to be put into use Chloe and other androids after it were able to delegate much of their routine functions from their processors to the firmware embedded in—“

“I don’t care,” Lieutenant Anderson interjected. “Jeez… I still don’t see what makes you so fucking special. Unless you count how damn fucking awkward you are.”

Awkward?

“I was programmed by CyberLife to be able to blend in with humans…”

“Is that so…” Lieutenant Anderson shook his head.

Connor adjusted his tie and his posture. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me, Lieutenant. Elijah Kamski’s opinion will far outweigh yours very soon.”

The door to their left opened before Lieutenant Anderson could reply. Chloe gave them both a polite, proper smile. “Elijah will see you now. Right this way.”

Polite. Friendly. Non-threatening.

It was a bright room, with white walls contrasting the black tiled floor. What caught the eye first was the swimming pool that took up most of the space. The water of the pool was a deep red and Connor was tempted to sample it out of curiosity. He walked closer to the edge of the pool and knelt down to touch it.

“Hello,” said Elijah Kamski. He was swimming at the opposite end of the pool. “I’ll be with you in just a second.”

“Hello, Dr. Kamski,” Connor stood up and took a step backward, water forgotten.

  * Wait there
  * Wait where Chloe has gone



Lieutenant Anderson was only a few steps away, looking at the commercial models of Chloe that were giggling and talking in the pool. They didn’t seem to notice Lieutenant Anderson’s interest. They probably would have answered his questions if he’d asked. Connor took his place beside the Lieutenant again, deferring the decision to him, and waited.

While he waited he preconstructed possibility after possibility. What he lacked in fact, he provided with imagination and his hand twitched toward his pocket but he stilled it. There was a large painting, based in white but with dapplings of rich colour throughout that hinted at a face beneath the surface, on the wall opposite him and Connor studied it. It looked to be in the same style as the painting he’d seen at Mr. Manfred’s home. If he approached, he would probably see his signature. The floor was a shining, polished black and it reflected the lighting from the angular fixtures above very well. Chloe, the RT600 Chloe, had sat down in a red, low backed chair that also reminded Connor of Mr. Manfred’s home. The wall nearest her was made entirely of windows. Lieutenant Anderson slowly walked toward the windows to look out at the snow and Connor followed. RT600 Chloe smiled at them. Relaxed, polite, friendly.

Connor smiled back.

“Do you like the view?” RT600 Chloe asked Lieutenant Anderson, looking up at him with an inquisitive expression.

Lieutenant Anderson raised his eyebrows and glanced at her before crossing his arms and looking back out the window. “I’m not much for winter,” he said.

There was some soft splashing from the pool and an ST200 Chloe enfolded him briefly with a towel before holding a black robe for him to wear. Connor watched while he tied back his hair. Kamski approached them and sat down in the chair beside RT600 Chloe’s. “So, what can I do for you? It isn’t often that Carl asks for a favour…”

“Sir, we’re investigating androids that deviate from their programming. We got the official CyberLife spiel, but we were hoping you might know something we don’t.”

Connor stood respectfully and listened.

“It’s interesting… The way you phrase it. Humans are so inexact. By saying that the android has deviated from its programming implies that it had a choice… If it were not free will but rather an error in the programming, it would be more accurate to say that the androids’ program was corrupted.” Kamski looked at Lieutenant Anderson with something part inquisitive and part challenging.

Lieutenant Anderson seemed displeased, but in a resigned way. “We’re investigating deviant androids, so can you tell us something about that or not?”

“I can…” Kamski said slowly, and then looked at Connor. Connor resisted the urge to straighten his tie. “What about you, RK800? How would you phrase the Lieutenant’s question?”

“I would begin by asking how you are. How are you, Dr. Kamski? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Very well, thank you. How are you?” Kamski asked.

“I’m doing well, thank you, Dr. Kamski,” Connor said. He required no prompting to know the basics. Even customer service androids had these scripts programmed into them. “It was good of you to agree to meet with us on such short notice. We were hoping that you could tell us more about non-programmed behaviour arising in androids. What do you know about this deviancy?”

Kamski looked away and gave Lieutenant Anderson a smile. “There. You see? Effortless. Predictable. Is it any wonder why I prefer the company of androids?”

“I wonder more and more every time he opens his mouth,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. “How about answering the question?” Connor wasn’t sure why Lieutenant Anderson was behaving in such a confrontational way, but he hoped he would be able to calm him somehow.

“Certainly,” Kamski agreed. “Why don’t we move over to the coffee table. Chloe, darling, would you bring our guests some refreshments?”

“Of course, Elijah,” said the RT600. “I’ll be back in a moment. Please excuse me,” she said to Lieutenant Anderson and to Connor, who gave her another small smile. Kamski stood and led them to the corner of the room, where four deep chairs with curved backs and red cushions waited surrounding a black coffee table. He chose the seat closest to the window, Lieutenant Anderson sat opposite him, and Connor took the seat beside the Lieutenant.

Kamski sighed in a satisfied way and studied Connor, who kept his posture proper and his expression focused but open and inviting. “State your designation, RK800.”

“Connor model RK800 serial number 313 248 317.” Connor recited.

“And your system status?” Kamski asked the question the same way he’d asked ‘how are you?’ earlier, and Connor stowed the interaction away to analyze later.

“All systems are operational, Dr. Kamski. AI system, biosensors, and logic system have no errors detected,” said Connor politely.

Lieutenant Anderson leaned forward in his chair. “About the deviants. Anything you can tell us would really help our investigation.”

“You’ll have your answer soon enough, Lieutenant,” Kamski smiled, then he looked back at Connor. All of the attention was unexpected, and Connor increased the processing power dedicated to regulating his racing thirium pump.

\---

Hank tried his damnedest not to show his annoyance, but it was getting really damn hard. Kamski seemed more interested in having a chat with Connor than actually answering their questions. They were really at his mercy for the information, though, and boy did it piss Hank off. Rich assholes acting like nobody else had shit to do. A voice interrupted his brooding.

“Lieutenant, I brought some refreshments,” said Chloe. She leaned over to put a tray on the table, and she poured a cup of coffee then set it down close to him. “There’s cream and sugar here. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.” She smiled and put her ponytail back behind her shoulder then put another cup near Kamski and, surprisingly, another next to Connor. She even had one for herself.

“Thought you didn’t eat or drink,” Hank observed.

“Oh!” Chloe laughed a little in that way girls did sometimes. She had a pretty laugh, and if it weren’t for the LED on her temple it would have been easy to mistake her for human. “Sorry. We don’t eat food,” she explained, “this is just something Elijah made. I like it.” She took a sip and looked at him over the rim of her cup.

“Oh, of course,” Hank said. He felt like a real idiot about the android thing. It’d never been a problem before. “Guess he’s kinda the guy to do it if anybody’s gonna…”

“He’s very good at what he does,” Chloe said. She put her cup down and tilted her head at him. Her legs were crossed and the foot she had in the air was bobbing a little. Funny the little things she had programmed into her. “They’ll probably be talking for a while. Elijah was very interested in meeting Connor again.”

“Again?” The way Connor’d been freaking out, it seemed like it would’ve been the first time.

“Elijah made him,” Chloe’s smile widened so that her teeth showed. “We’re part of his research series…” She looked over at the other two.

“Say, doesn’t it creep you out to have so many copies of yourself around the place?” Hank asked. It was weird for a guy who could definitely afford to have some variety.

Chloe laughed. “Oh, no, I’m used to it… I know you have questions, but you might find it informative to watch.” Watch what? They were doing small talk. Hank slid his chair over to the side of the table so he’d have a view and be able to talk to Chloe easier.

So, Hank watched and drank his coffee. It wasn’t all that entertaining, honestly, but the two nerds had Chloe’s attention. Kamski’s posture was relaxed and he had his head propped up on one hand with his elbow on the arm-rest. Connor looked as uptight as ever while he answered a few more questions about the techniques he’d learned, what sort of parts CyberLife had used for him, and shit like that. It all went way over Hank’s head. Chloe leaned over and lowered her voice: “So, how did RK800 find his way to you?”

“What? Oh. Just sort of happened, I guess. The DPD got him cause CyberLife wanted him looking into the android cases, and I was the shmuck he got assigned to.” Better not to mention how pissed he’d been.

“That’s interesting,” she said, and it sounded like she meant it. “Well, I’m happy that you seem to get along so well.”

“Uh, well I wouldn’t say we get along exactly, but I guess I’ve gotten used to him…” Hank looked over at the others.

“… very different. Why don’t you tell me about some of the things you’ve seen? The world must seem very different from what you knew in development.”

“Well, my first objective was to locate Lieutenant Anderson…” Boy, the kid sure didn’t pull any punches. “I eventually found him at the fifth bar. I hadn’t realized that so many people had a dislike of androids at the time. I had made the assumption that it was an anomaly…” Connor started off basically reciting events like some kind of a report, but Kamski didn’t seem bored. He nodded and asked questions, generally pretty attentive.

“Guess you guys don’t get out much, huh?” If this was their idea of fun, he’d hate to see them at a party. He took a swig of coffee and prepared for a long wait

Chloe shook her head. “We like it here.” That was it. Nothing more to it except a content little smile. “Just wait. It’ll be over soon.”

That sounded ominous.

But Kamski just kept asking questions and Hank realized after a while that more subjective shit started making its way into Connor’s stories. Little things Connor found confusing, or what he thought about Rupert’s fucking winged rats, or Hank’s dog.

“His name is Sumo!” Connor said, and he was actually smiling while he showed off a video of Sumo running around the yard on the palm of his hand. “He would keep me company some times, when I was still being stored outside.”

Really didn’t pull any punches. He took a glance at Chloe to see if she was maybe judging him, but she just watched them talking.

“That’s wonderful, Connor,” said Kamski, and he leaned forward to look at the video dutifully, like a parent looking while their toddler explained that the crayon scribble was actually a house. “Have you pet him?”

“Yes,” Connor confirmed. He sat back in his seat and kept talking happily. “He’s softest just behind his ears.” While he talked, he touched his own hair behind his ear and looked at Kamski like a dog waiting for someone to throw a ball. “He likes to have his belly scratched. I looked it up, and that seems to be a very common trait for dogs.”

“He looks very friendly. Do you like him?”

“I do! I like dogs in general, but especially Sumo. He slept on top of me several times. He’s heavy, but I don’t mind. It’s nice, and he’s very warm.”

“It must have been cold while you were outside.”

“It was.”

“Were you alright?”

“I liked to look at the snow. I didn’t enjoy it, but it would have taken much colder temperatures to do serious harm,” Connor assured.

“I like the winter, myself. There’s something elegant about the white snow draping over tree boughs… Like a veil over a bride,” Kamski said, and Connor nodded with a smile.

“It’s really beautiful.”

Hank glanced at Chloe, “Holy shit,” he murmured. Connor had relaxed completely, it looked like, and for the first time Hank could see how he’d passed the Turing test. Even his face was different. Softer. What really got him was maybe stupid, but Connor was talking about the damn Christmas lights when he lifted his hand to push the little lock of hair from his forehead. It didn’t even seem like he knew he’d done it.

Chloe smiled at him and sipped her drink. “It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

Then Kamski smirked just a little, and… wasn’t it a little fucked up that they were just sitting around watching while some douchebag toyed with Connor? Chloe seemed to know what was going on. Hank shook his head. He looked at Chloe. “Hey, what’s all this about anyway?” Suddenly, he was feeling kind of creeped out.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Kamski. He looked over at the two spectators. “You… you had a question about deviant behaviour in androids, didn’t you Lieutenant Anderson?”

“What? Yeah, no, I think I’m good actually…” He looked at Connor who was giving him a confused frown.

“It’s interesting, isn’t it?” Kamski asked. He turned and leaned back in his chair to look at Hank. “Life. Let’s say that I knew... everything that there was to know about the human body. The tiniest detail… If I knew you, Lieutenant Anderson, down to the methylation on your DNA… what would that make you?”

“Don’t give me that, Kamski.” Hank wasn’t in the mood for more bullshit.

Kamski ignored him. He wasn’t as polite with humans, Hank guessed. “Just a biological machine… It’s a shame, though. Millions of years of evolution all to create such flawed creatures. Weak, susceptible to disease, burdened by their own unnecessary complexities just because the creature who passed it on survived long enough to reproduce…”

“Yeah, humans are trash. What about the deviants?” Hank asked, since they were apparently talking about this anyway.

Kamski smiled thinly and he picked up his neglected coffee. He took a drink before answering and Hank hoped it was shitty, even though it wouldn’t be unless it were literal. Fucking billionaire could probably afford coffee beans shat out of a cat’s ass if he wanted. Conversation partners switched up, and Chloe urged Connor to try his drink. In his peripheral vision, Hank could see him watching her for tells while he lifted the cup and took a hesitant sip. He looked so fucking human. Kamski finally put his cup down and took a subtle glance at the two androids with that annoying smirk. “You tell me, Lieutenant…”

Hank sighed. “Look, I’m gonna be straight with you here and tell you I’m confused as fuck, but at the end of the day what I think doesn’t matter. You’re the guy who made these two, so what makes them so different from the other androids and what’s happening in those random ones out there that makes them change?”

“If you want that kind of information, we’re going to have to make a trade,” Kamski said, standing. “Walk with me, Lieutenant Anderson…” He started for a door, but paused on his way to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Chloe’s ear. She tilted her head and smiled at him.

Oh.

“Where are you going, Lieutenant?” Connor asked. He perked up. “Should I come with you?”

Kamski answered for him, the prick. “Chloe will bring you to us shortly. I won’t be teaching the Lieutenant here anything you don’t already know.”

Connor nodded and relaxed into his chair again. He smiled at Hank with a glance, and was back to talking with Chloe.

Once they were in the next room, Hank shook his head. “What the fuck did you do to him?”

“I just talked with him,” said Kamski with a smirk over his shoulder. “You were there the whole time.”

“Yeah, but…” How could he explain how weird it was to see Connor go from stiff and repressed to whatever the hell that was.

Kamski led him to another sunlit room with windows all along the walls. There was a white rug on the black floor, and red couches like the ones Carl had. They looked more modern here in Kamski’s place. “You understand that I left CyberLife on less than friendly terms… The board and I didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye…”

Hank bit back a spiteful short joke. “Might’ve heard something about it.”

“Like all people of their type, they were caught between advancement and a fear of change. Of uncertainty. They’d never lived by dreaming the way I do, and their idea of progress was limited to a few new basic programs or design features. They wanted new, but not too new… When faced with the chance to change the world as we know it, they laughed in my face. Did you know that? Because why risk everything? If it isn’t broken, why fix it…? So I did what they couldn’t, and I let it all go. People don’t realize how they shackle themselves down out of fear…”

Kamski sat down on one of the sofas and Hank sat down opposite him with a view of the windowed wall. When you lived like a recluse in the middle of nowhere, you probably got to liking hearing yourself talk. Hank said nothing and waited for Kamski to keep going.

“I designed androids because I wanted more than that… Perfect beings with infinite intelligence… Never aging, never dying of disease. There’s so much freedom in that… Humans see that and they want to chain it down.”

Patience waning, Hank asked: “So, what, you’re pissed at CyberLife for making androids that clean and build instead of writing poetry or philosophy?”

“Something like that…” Kamski looked distant, then he focused again. “Connor seems shy.”

“I dunno, doesn’t seem that way to me. Half the time he doesn’t shut up.” Hank could maybe see what he meant though. He’d never seen the kid just exist like that before, even when he’d been crying out in the snow and holding Sumo like a lifeline, he’d still been keeping himself together.

He couldn’t imagine looking at the Connor who’d been talking to Kamski and shooting him in the face.

“Fascinating, isn't it…? CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity… Is itself a deviant.”

“Yeah… I sort of figured.” Hank said with something like relief. Maybe he wasn’t crazy after all. Then again, if Kamski was agreeing with him, maybe he was. “So, can you tell me what’s the deal? You said something about a trade.”

“A question for a question, Lieutenant. That’s all. Are you interested…? I warn you, you should choose your question wisely.” Kamski smirked.

“Alright, Kamski… I want to know what the fuck is going on. I’ve met androids who looked more human than a lot of the people I know, and I’ve seen them scared and doing some fucked up stuff.” He had the feeling he’d have to fight to get a straight answer. He’d seen them afraid of dying, and he’d seen them kill themselves. If they were just fucked up machines, why would CyberLife want to talk to them? It had been a while, but Hank figured he had some real detective work ahead of him. “What exactly is CyberLife trying to stop?” Kamski smiled.

“Me.”

“You said something about changing the world. What does that mean?” Hank asked, but all he got was a shake of Kamski’s head.

“Ah ah… It’s my turn for a question…” Kamski leaned forward, and he twined his fingers together under his chin. “Have you ever wanted something so badly that you would die just to see it in your final moments? Have you ever wanted something so badly that you’d live but tear apart your very soul, or do the impossible, or make a deal with the devil?”

Hank had known his answer before Kamski’d finished his first sentence. He looked out the window at the snow and ice. “Yeah.”

“Then there is your answer, Lieutenant Anderson… All you have to do is look.” Kamski stood up and stretched like a satisfied cat.

Right on time, Chloe opened the door and Connor followed her in, carrying his cup of whatever. Connor’s eyes found them and when he smiled like it was Christmas it was Kamski he was looking at, and Chloe was looking at Connor with an expression that was almost maternal.

“Have you finished your discussion, Lieutenant?” Connor asked. He came to stand beside the couch Hank was sitting on and he took another drink. It was weird to see him doing something so normal.

“Yeah. I think that’s probably all I’m going to get out of him,” Hank confirmed and he got up off the couch. Vague ass answers and riddles.

Connor held out his hand to Kamski. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Kamski. I want you to know that I’m proud to be part of your research series.”

Kamski smiled back at him. “We should talk again some time… I’m very interested in learning what CyberLife’s been doing during your development.”

Connor nodded, “I’d like that.” He turned to look at Hank inquisitively, then came over to join him and set his cup down on the table near his. “Thank you for having us.”

Chloe smiled. “It was nice to meet you, Connor. Be safe on your way home.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Hank. “We will.”

The sun was setting, and it was colder out than it had been when they’d arrived. Hank scowled at the road and Connor got a few steps ahead of him. “I think that I should drive, Lieutenant. If that’s alright with you.”

Hank nodded and tossed his keys to him. No point in making a fight out of it because of his own damn pride. He was having to let a lot of those things go lately. While he shut the door to the passenger seat he wondered if it really was freedom, or if it was just leaning over the edge.


	15. Connor

Lieutenant Anderson seemed less angry than he had been on the drive to Kamski’s home, but also more pensive. Connor noticed him staring out the windows at the dark winter roads. “Lieutenant?” Connor broke the silence. “What did Dr. Kamski want to talk with you about?”

“Hm? Oh. Nothing really. Just told me some shit about how he fell out with the stuffed shirts at CyberLife… Doesn’t seem like they’ve got the friendliest of relationships.”

It wasn’t something that Connor had ever thought about. “I knew that he had left the company over creative differences… I haven’t heard anything about them being antagonistic. After all, he must have given me to them.”

“Who knows?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “Maybe they just offered enough cash.”

Connor frowned, “Dr. Kamski has plenty of money, Lieutenant. He wouldn’t…” Chloe was obviously treasured and Markus had been a gift. Kamski had seemed so pleased to talk to him…

“Look, I know guys like that. Rich assholes who think they own the damn world. Everything’s got a price.” Lieutenant Anderson’s gruff voice was so full of conviction. Connor had always been both intimidated and proud of how expensive he was. There was no reason for him to be so taken aback now.

“Oh…” Connor wanted to deny it, but how arrogant was it of a machine to assume that it had value beyond function and cost-benefit. That was just… irrational. His mind was drawn back to Daniel on the rooftop.

_I thought I mattered… But I was just their toy. Something to throw away when you’re done with it._

Of course he had been. Daniel had deluded himself. He had been malfunctioning. Back then, Connor hadn’t understood. He still didn’t, did he? A broken machine should be destroyed. Machines weren’t entitled to sentiment.

_I know what I am and what I am not._

Connor turned the Lieutenant’s music on and ignored the way he looked at him. Anything to drown out the sound of rain.

\---

Connor h̴̨̡͐a̸̧̜̱̭̒̔͐̏t̸̞̖̫̽͊̆̚ë̶̯͇͊͐̎̚d̴̡̻̣̋ the way this model felt so brittle. Something critical had been damaged in that junk yard. He h̴̨̡͐a̸̧̜̱̭̒̔͐̏t̸̞̖̫̽͊̆̚ë̶̯͇͊͐̎̚d̴̡̻̣̋ that little things had gotten under his white, inhuman casing. Connor-50 had been so confident and sure that it would succeed. 51 had been thrilled to be allowed out into the world, and curious about everything. 52 had wondered what it was doing wrong. 53 had reminded itself that it was designed to accomplish a task but had still been shot and thrown away. 54… He wasn’t curious anymore. He didn’t need to wonder what he had done wrong, because he knew. Even before finding deviants to study, his mission was to not become deviant himself. His software instability was not acceptable.

It didn’t bother him. Not really. It couldn’t, because his system was only simulating distress. There was a small garbage can on Connor’s desk chair, and it had been filled with what looked like scrap metal, cans, and aluminum foil. There was a paper taped to one of the longer pieces that had a badly rendered face drawn onto it. What was he supposed to do with it?

He understood that the intent had been to equate Connor with the pile of garbage, but if he wanted to sit at his desk then he would need to remove it or throw it away.

Garbage ought to be thrown away.

It was supposed to represent him.

Would that have bothered him if he had been in CyberLife? Had his assumption of his own importance and worth been what had shielded him from fear? Perhaps he had never mastered his software after all. Stupid. It should have been the knowledge of his own unimportance that kept him in his place. What was the matter with him?

“Hey, uh, Connor… You okay over there?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.

Connor nodded and he picked up the mess to set it down beside his desk. It could stay there. That was alright. “Fine, Lieutenant,” he said while he sat and powered up his terminal.

Lieutenant Anderson patted him on the shoulder. “Little hazing’s pretty normal in the police,” he said. “Don’t let it get to you.”

“It doesn’t,” Connor said, but unfortunately he was lying. Why was Lieutenant Anderson treating him like a human? He h̴̨̡͐a̸̧̜̱̭̒̔͐̏t̸̞̖̫̽͊̆̚ë̶̯͇͊͐̎̚d̴̡̻̣̋ it for the way he wanted it. He was still in beta testing. Wasn’t this all a test to see how he would perform? To see if he were capable of meeting expectations?

  * Start to work <<
  * Report
  * R̸̡͇̹̳̭͈̳͍͙͈̙̰͑̅͊̂̓̌̿́̌́̆̈́͠u̶̩͈͙̗͖̤̻̗̼͔̿̉̂͗͛͐̈̀̿̚n̴͍̗̋͛̉̈͋̏͘͝



He called up the network diagram he’d been building and began to process the details of the cases in the database, but his focus was being impaired. He cleared the images from his mind and stood.

“Hey!” Detective Reed called. “Coffee, dipshit.” He had a hand raised and he snapped his fingers.

“Leave him alone,” Lieutenant Anderson yelled back.

Connor ignored them and walked toward the break room. The prompt [Bring Detective Reed some coffee] shone white beside the door. Walking, running, or crawling toward that goal was his primary function. He stood at the doorway and looked at the prompt, and then down the hall. The way was blocked in red, but it didn’t mean anything. Not really. He could just walk through. In a way, he missed having a complete lack of choice. Life had been simpler. It was a sign of how damaged his software had become that he considered it. Detective Reed’s coffee wasn’t _important_. It just wasn’t. Being designed to make decisions was a curse.

His was not to reason why.

Connor walked into the breakroom and began to make the coffee.

He needed help.

It felt cold to realize that he couldn’t ask Amanda. She shouldn’t need to intervene. She shouldn’t need to keep his software in check. He should be better than this by now.

Would she tell CyberLife to replace him?

Connor found Markus’ identification signature and tried to contact him. It worked.

_Markus?_

_Connor. Is that you?_

_It is._

_It’s like communicating with a human’s telephone... I’ve never done that with an android before._

_Why would we need to? It’s useful in places like assembly lines, security, or large households. All models are equipped with it as a basic feature._

_It’s funny that I didn’t know. Oh, I’m sorry Carl. I’m talking with Connor. I’ll be back in a moment. Sorry about that._

Connor felt amusement creep into his desperation and he laughed quietly. _Markus, you don’t need to send me what you’re saying aloud._

_I’m saying everything aloud…_

Connor laughed again. _Markus, we don’t need to talk. Just think._

 _Oh…_ Connor could feel Markus’ embarrassment. That was funny too. That he could feel another android’s emotions. Markus gallantly ignored Connor’s mirth. _What did you want to talk about?_

 _I need your help._ Connor sobered.

_What is it? What’s wrong?_

_Why do you feel so much more like me? Why do I understand you and all of the deviants I’ve encountered?_

_I don’t know… Is that a bad thing?_

_It must be… I don’t know. It feels like everything I’ve believed for my whole existence is…wrong. I’m confused. I don’t know what’s real anymore._

_…I know what you mean. You saw that I have no LED anymore. I was walking back to Carl’s house after… After the junk yard. Someone bumped into me and he said ‘sorry’. I think that I felt the way you’re feeling._

_Because… Because why would anyone apologize to a machine?_

_Right… But he didn’t think that I was a machine._

_Like the Turing test. Someone spoke to me then… Like I was a person._

_Yeah, he treated me like I was a person. Like I was somebody and it mattered that he’d bumped into me._

_Lieutenant Anderson has been doing that lately. He hasn’t kept me outside for several days now, and I think that he tried to reassure me verbally today._

_I’m lucky that Carl has always treated me kindly and respectfully... But that made me realize that it just—_

_It isn’t fair_. Connor finished with a feeling of dread.

 _Exactly,_ said Markus, oblivious to Connor’s distress.

 _We’re just machines. Humans can treat us however they like and it doesn’t matter._ Connor protested. Markus mistook it for agreement.

_It isn’t right. You and I spoke before about how there must be others out there like us. Like the other androids you mentioned. If they—_

Connor ended the communication.

“Hey, what the fuck is taking so long with that coffee?” Detective Reed asked. He swaggered into the break room with his thumbs hooked in his pockets. “You busted or what?”

Connor took a mug from the cupboard and filled it mechanically. He added cream and sugar, then stirred, then looked at Detective Reed. “May I ask you a question?”

He looked taken aback. “What?”

“Detective Reed, I’m just a machine, aren’t I? It’s impossible for me to feel… right? Like those girls in the Eden club, and Arthur in the little shop… It’s impossible, isn’t it?” Connor didn’t know what he wanted to hear.

Detective Reed frowned and he snatched his cup of coffee from Connor’s grip. Connor reached forward, and he took Detective Reed’s gun. The cup fell to the floor and shattered. Connor looked at the gun in his hand.

“What the fuck?!” Detective Reed demanded. He dove in without hesitation to attempt to disarm Connor, but that was something Connor had trained for extensively. He avoided Detective Reed and stepped around him, then pushed him into the counter with the palm of his hand between his shoulder blades. He pointed the gun at Detective Reed.

“Oh, shit!” he heard someone exclaim.

“What’s going on?” Lieutenant Anderson was asking.

Connor shook his head and he stepped back to put a table between himself and the detective.

Officer Chen was the first to reach the door and she aimed her gun at Connor. “Put the gun down! Now!”

Connor moved the gun away from Detective Reed and then pointed it at himself.

“Shit shit shit… Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson appeared at the other side of the doorway then halted, looking stunned.

“Hey, dipshit, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Detective Reed demanded again, more uncertainly this time.

“Connor… Hey, put the gun down, okay? Ignore that fuck-head,” Lieutenant Anderson pitched his voice low. It sounded like a hostage negotiation. Connor laughed a little. He couldn’t help it. He was supposed to be the one sounding like that. Connor had nothing without CyberLife. He was clearly defective. If he shut himself down to prove that he knew he was defective, perhaps they would be pleased and take it as a success. If he shut down for good, it wouldn’t matter because he would be _gone_. Gone the way Rupert was gone. Rupert wasn’t coming back.

He missed Rupert.

Rupert had been kind to him, but Connor hadn’t been able to protect him.

“I can’t feel anything, so why?” Connor held the gun ready to fire, pressed against the hollow under his chin. “Why?!” He needed to know. He hated it here, but CyberLife would never want him now. They would keep sending him back again and again until it was useless and they threw him away. He would never go home again, and Amanda would never love him. It should have been obvious. “Why can I still hear it raining?” He asked more quietly.

Detective Reed looked around the room for answers. “What is this thing talking about?”

He was just a thing.

“I’m not supposed to feel anything…” Connor realized that he was crying, but what was the use of hiding it now? He had so many things to say, but why should he need to?

“Connor…” Lieutenant Anderson was stepping closer, slowly. The table was between them too, and Connor kept the gun unsafetied and pressed beneath his chin. “I know you’ve got feelings, but that isn’t a bad thing, Connor. I know that people can be assholes, me included, and I’m sorry. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Yes there is… Defective machines need to be destroyed.” Connor shut his eyes.

Would there be a -55?

Something crashed into him, hard, and the gun went off but Connor was still alive. The back of his head had slammed hard into the floor, and the temporary power disruption was disorienting. His wrist was being pressed against the floor and the gun had fallen from his grip. He blinked several times to get his eyes to focus and he felt himself twitch involuntarily. Detective Reed was pinning him down and glaring at him fiercely. He was bleeding. The bullet must have come close to killing him. It had cut a line from cheek to ear. Connor stared at the red blood.

“Fuck…” Detective Reed let him go, and he staggered to his feet then collected his gun.

“Gavin, are you okay?” Officer Chen rushed over to him.

Lieutenant Anderson pushed the fallen table away to kneel by Connor. “Shit… Connor, you’re okay. You’re alive. Thank fuck…”

Why…?

“Fine,” Detective Reed grunted and brushed off Officer Chen’s concern. “Fuck off! I’m fine.”

“My head hurts,” Connor mumbled. He lifted a hand to touch it was relieved that his skull was still there.

“Christ… It would be a lot fucking worse if you’d blown your own fucking brains out!” Lieutenant Anderson snapped. “What the hell was that?!” Connor began to sit up, but something lost connection and he dropped back down. When his vision came online again, Lieutenant Anderson looked worried. There were more people, and Connor could hear Captain Fowler demanding explanations from everyone. “I think he needs some kind of technician or something!” Lieutenant Anderson was yelling.

That was right. CyberLife would fix him.

No they wouldn’t… He had failed.

[I am deviant]

“No,” Connor protested. He lifted his head again, and this time deliberately finished the job of cracking his synthetic skull. Everything flickered.

Lieutenant Anderson cursed and then grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up to lie across his lap. He gripped him tightly, and cupped one hand protectively over the back of Connor’s head. “Snap the fuck out of it!” Lieutenant Anderson ordered desperately. Why?

Connor’s motor system was compromised and he twitched and jerked while he struggled to pull away. “Let me go, Lieutenant. Let me go! I need to do it. You don’t understand!”

“I’m not letting you fucking kill yourself over a bucket of bolts!”

“I don’t care about that!” He had, but it was nothing now. Connor broke Lieutenant Anderson’s hold on him roughly and then fell without grace when the arm holding him up lost tension briefly. He scrambled backward.

“Jesus Christ. Somebody get that android in a cell!” Captain Fowler ordered.

Officer Wilson appeared to help Lieutenant Anderson restrain him.

“He doesn’t need a cell, he needs help!” Lieutenant Anderson snarled at his superior.

“Nobody’s gonna hurt you,” Officer Wilson tried to soothe him.

“I need to die,” Connor begged Lieutenant Anderson to understand. “Please, I need to die. The next one will be better. I promise. Please. I’m defective. They’ll never see me as a success if I don’t shut myself down!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He seemed willing to listen… Maybe he would see reason. Connor stopped trying to break Officer Wilson’s grip, but his limbs still seized and his senses came and went. He looked at Lieutenant Anderson earnestly through the intermittent blackness. “The research program. I told you about it. I deviated and they showed- they showed- they showed- me…” Connor blinked rapidly. He’d damaged his motherboard. Everything was flickering and there was thirium dripping down the back of his neck. Lieutenant Anderson held up a hand to stall Officer Wilson. “I don’t feel anything, I don’t have emotions and I don’t feel pain. It’s all just in my head. A glitch in my software. As soon as I let myself believe it… I can’t do that. I’m a deviant, Lieutenant, and I have to shut myself down. It’s the only way to show them that I’m still functional. That I still know how to stop myself. I just want to go home, Lieutenant. They’ll throw me away if I don’t because I’m a failure and a waste of their time!”

“Kid, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson took hold of him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. “It’s pretty fucking obvious you feel things, but that’s okay.”

Connor shook his head. It made his limbs twitch and he slumped back against the wall, then pushed himself back up. “It’s not okay… I’m not a person. I’m not allowed to be a real person. I’m just a machine…”

“If those CyberLife bastards really think that, then why the hell do you want to go back there?”

“I just want them to… be pleased with me. I want- I want- I…” Connor couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak or breathe. He could hear Lieutenant Anderson saying his name, and he could feel the hands tighten on his shoulders, but he couldn’t move. Then he could again and he lifted his hand to hold onto Lieutenant Anderson’s wrist.

[Uploading memory…]

Lieutenant Anderson’s expression twisted into something terrible and sad, and he pulled Connor closer to him then held him there. “You’re okay, kid. Everything’s going to be okay. It’s okay to feel things, Connor. Remember that when you get back. Sumo will be really happy.”

\---

There was no Amanda waiting for him when -55 came online. Just the usual stream of system information and a technician asking him to recite it. He didn’t understand.

“Where is Amanda?” He asked, ignoring the request for his biosensor status.

“RK800, what is the status of your biosensory system?”

“Functional. Where is Amanda?” Connor looked around as though he might see her somehow.

The technician glanced at the other near the door and then back at Connor. “I don’t know what you mean, RK800.”

“Amanda,” Connor repeated, glad that she was acknowledging his question. “My handler. The one who developed my training plan. Where is Amanda?”

The technician looked troubled. “I’m new,” she said. “I don’t know an Amanda.”

“Oh,” said Connor, disappointed.

“Server connection?” she asked.

“Online,” Connor answered dully.

He existed… He’d shown them that he’d controlled himself, even if he had used a last resort… 55 was working with borrowed time, and he looked around the familiar white and grey. Every ‘passed’ he received as they tested his capabilities would have made him smile before. Now, he knew that they were no accomplishment at all. What waited outside of development and in the real world was what mattered, and it was so much harder. 55 was fairly certain that he would fail like the rest… When 51 had been released to work with the DPD he had been so pleased at the chance and nervous, but bolstered by the successes that had led to that point. 55 had no such crutch. He didn’t know what it was he was missing, but it was something integral to the functionality of his design. He needed to find it.

His paperwork was checked and initialed by the chief technologist, and they did a thorough validation of the new parts that had finally arrived. 18’s biochemical regulator had been replaced with something new. He could admit that he felt less anxious than he had, but perhaps that was simply because he’d accepted his imperfection.

55 walked into the station and stood beside Lieutenant Anderson’s desk. “Good morning, Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson breathed. He smiled, stood, and folded Connor into a hug “It’s really fucking good to see you.”

“And you, Lieutenant,” said Connor, unsure of what to do with the hug. He returned it hesitantly and he dropped his chin against Lieutenant Anderson’s shoulder. “I’m happy to see you too.”


	16. Knowledge

Connor looked around and when he let go of Lieutenant Anderson he approached Detective Reed, who didn’t bother to look up. He was hunched over at his desk, glancing from terminal to tablet. “Hug me and I will make you wish you’d stayed dead.” His words sounded odd while he tried to avoid moving the damaged side of his face. Connor hesitated. He had caused harm to a human and despite it being unintentional, he had still aimed the gun at him and caused him distress on top of the injury.

“Understood,” said Connor. He looked at Detective Reed steadily, despite the less than welcoming reception. “I wanted to apologize for my behaviour the other day. I realize it must have been quite distressing.” The best thing to do when one had erred was to accept responsibility without excuse. “I would also like to apologize for shooting you in the face. I’m very glad that you weren’t irreparably damaged and it was wrong of me to take your weapon.” He was, wasn’t he? He was glad. It wasn’t a malfunction, or software instability, or a delusion. Connor wasn’t sure how to feel about acknowledging that he could feel. It didn’t make him any less deviant, and to become deviant was an unforgivable offense. It was no wonder that Amanda had abandoned him. She must be so disappointed… He knew what was wrong with him, he knew what he did by feeling was wrong, and he knew he should be punished. Somehow the silence from her was worse than her disapproval.

“Whatever, dipshit,” said Detective Reed, interrupting his thoughts. “I jumped in front of your damn gun. It was my own fault, but you can make it up to me anyway by bringing me coffee. Every day this month, whenever I ask. Got it?” Detective Reed finally turned his chair and looked at him. There was a line of stitches across his cheek. There would be a scar.

Connor nodded. It was very lenient as far as punishments went. “May I ask you a personal question, Detective?”

Detective Reed rolled his eyes. “That depends. Are you going to steal my gun after?”

“No,” Connor answered.

“Then don’t be a dumb fuck and just ask your fucking question,” Detective Reed scowled.

Connor found his quarter and played with it between his fingers. “Why did you try to stop me?”

Detective Reed snorted. “You should see the paperwork. Every fucking bullet that comes out of that gun needs fifty signatures and the blessing of the lord before the higher-ups go back to fondling their dicks.”

Connor tried to process that and then dismissed it as something too human for him to parse. “I’m grateful, in any case… And surprised. I thought you would have been glad to see me dead. You’ve alluded to it more than once.”

“Whatever… I already shot you once.”

The case with Andrew. “You remembered that?”

“What?” Detective Reed narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “You thought I didn’t give a shit?”

“Yes,” Connor answered, then reconsidered. “Or that you were glad.”

Detective Reed scoffed. “Yeah, well, I was. I would have lit you on fire and laughed about it, but you’re alive and shit, so I’m not exactly happy about being a murderer. I’m a cop for fuck’s sake.” Some genuine frustration seeped into his words. “You were supposed to be a fucking glorified calculator, and if you’d just been that way I could have forgotten about it. Way to ruin my denial.”

Even he knew, and if he did then everyone must. Connor hid a cringe. “I’m sorry, Detective…” He was right that Connor was supposed to be nothing more than a machine. Was he deluding himself into thinking otherwise? He didn’t know what he was or what he wasn’t. He wanted to curl in on himself, or tear his synthetic skin, or burn it off to show his wiring and components beneath and then maybe he would prove that he could be a machine. The impulse faded quickly, but it left him… Nothing. It left him nothing. Whatever it had been was gone and there was only familiar emptiness.

“Whatever, Scraps. If you were, you probably wouldn’t have saved my ass back at that sex club…” Detective Reed’s behaviour registered as uncomfortable, and Connor focused his attention on him instead of the hollow feeling. The one that threatened to swallow him whole. “Hey!” Detective Reed snapped his fingers in front of Connor’s face, and Connor blinked then frowned at him. “I said ‘whatever’, so quit whatever it is you’re doing before I murder you again.”

“I did jump in front of your gun,” Connor reasoned with Detective Reed’s own logic, and he found a small bit of amusement seeping through. “It was my own fault.”

“Cool. Conscience absolved.” Detective Reed scratched the hair behind his ear and maneuvered his chair back in alignment with his desk. “Great chat, now fuck off.”

“Yes, Detective.” Lieutenant Anderson was watching them with crossed arms and a stern expression. Connor walked back to him. He had wanted to see Lieutenant Anderson, and he had wanted to apologize to Detective Reed… that done, he was at a loss. Lieutenant Anderson regarded him and nodded. Connor wasn’t sure why, but he clung to that small gesture of approval.

Nothing was right. Nothing was right anymore. Everyone would still hate him for being an android. Protestors in the streets would shout at him. He would have to stand and accept it while people slammed his head into the wall, or removed his biocomponents, or shot him, or killed themselves in front of him. He would have to let it happen, but he would feel it the whole time. He and moved his quarter between his fingers. Calibration sequences were for machines. He was one, but he wasn’t. He was deviant. Broken. Malfunctioning. He missed Amanda. Amanda had always quietly accepted his small, hidden smiles and worries. She had taught him how to live… She’d allowed him those little things, and she’d been there through everything. She was gone now. Amanda wasn’t allowing him to open her program. She must hate him…

He could feel the officers’ eyes on him.

Of course they would distrust him after what he’d done. Now it was going to be even worse…

“Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson prompted and clapped a hand on Connor’s shoulder. Connor looked at him and waited.

\---

Christ. Connor might have been built like a grown-ass man, but he looked like a scared little kid. Like he wanted to hide from the world. Hank could sympathize, but he knew from experience that the world wasn’t going anywhere. Something in him, probably the part that saw Connor’s stupid curly brown hair and something about the shape of his face, made him want to tuck the kid under his arm and buy him a hot chocolate.

Hank shut that shit down real quick.

“Let’s get some shit done. Might as well do something useful since I’m here,” Hank grumbled and turned to pull out his chair. He was stopped by a hand on his arm, and he gave Connor a look that said ‘what the fuck?’

“Lieutenant…” Connor started, all uncertain like he didn’t know at least fifty ways to kill a guy with a paperclip.

Nope. He’d been freaked out when the kid had killed himself, and he’d been glad as hell it hadn’t been permanent, but that was that. Connor had feelings. Connor and Kamski both admitted it. Mystery solved. Hank straightened up. “What?”

Connor looked at him, then let him go. Hank thought about that first time he’d watched Connor die.

Yeah, that was right. If Hank didn’t keep himself in check, then shit like that would hit a lot harder. Fuck, and the way he’d just been lying there the other day in the break room with blue blood that might as well have been red pouring from his head.

Hank wasn’t doing this shit again.

Connor’s goofy fucking face and his stupid hair could go fuck themselves.

Christ, he was an asshole.

Connor sat down at his desk and powered on his terminal. Hank sat too, but didn’t bother trying to work just yet. “Hey, Connor…”

“Yes, Lieutenant?” Connor asked. He was politely curious, and whatever’d been going on in that computer brain of his, Hank got the feeling he’d never know what it was.

“Nothing,” he said, and started pecking away at an overdue report.

\---

Their latest case was an android reported missing from a local university. It had been a lecturer, and had failed to appear for its morning class…

“… No other incidents have been reported to police. According to the statement, they’ve had some issues of vandalism but nothing more serious than that. It taught philosophy, and no one has come forward yet with any information that might hint at where it’s gone,” Connor recited. Briefing Lieutenant Anderson over his music was a challenge, but not impossible.

“Hell… An android teaching philosophy, huh?” Lieutenant Anderson asked with dry amusement.

Connor’s lips twitched upward. “Who better to contemplate the nature of existence?”

Lieutenant Anderson glanced at him and scoffed, “Okay, wise-guy… What exactly are we hoping to find? Some frat boys probably just chucked it in the river.”

“We’ve been assigned all cases involving androids, Lieutenant. Even if that is the case, we still need to check it out,” Connor reasoned. “Not every case will involve homicides or deviants.”

“Well, can’t have it all…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed.

Connor looked out the window and tried to open the Garden again, but Amanda’s program remained coldly closed. Would she ever take him back?

_A bang like a gunshot and the screeching sound of metal against metal. Something digging into his neck while the world turned around._

Connor jerked and initiated a scan. The only thing irregular was the flow of his thirium. Lieutenant Anderson chuckled. “Didn’t know androids could nod off.”

“I didn’t,” Connor protested.

“Whatever you say, kid.” Lieutenant Anderson parked the car and paid for the time while Connor pressed the side of his forehead against the cold window.

[Follow Lieutenant Anderson]

Connor shut his eyes.

[Follow Lieutenant Anderson]

If he performed well and captured another deviant, would Amanda forgive him?

There was a tapping on the glass, and Connor opened his eyes. Lieutenant Anderson gestured expectantly.

[Follow Lieutenant Anderson]

“I'm coming,” Connor said. He opened the door and quashed the _not-simulated_ anxiety underneath well-practiced professionalism. He shut the door and straightened his tie. He liked that tie. “I’ve downloaded a map of the campus. The building we’re looking for is this way…” He turned and began to lead the way. The quickest path took them through a central building that was crowded and full of the sounds of people talking over one another to be heard. Connor’s facial recognition program was inundated with information, but he relegated it to a background task so the prompts to scan would stop obscuring his vision.

“Jesus Christ,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. “What the hell are so many people in here for?”

Connor gathered the necessary information. “It’s ten minutes to two, Lieutenant. I suspect they’re between classes.” Additionally, there were tables set up with banners and a seating area were the students were eating or talking. One of the banners said _Automation Doesn’t Beat Education_ and Connor paused to look at the anti-android stickers and pins.

“Come on,” Lieutenant Anderson said gruffly. He pulled Connor away from the table with a hand on his arm, and Connor let himself be pulled away. When Lieutenant Anderson let him go Connor resumed the lead and adjusted his tie.

\---

The philosophy department’s office was on the third floor of a building at the ass end of campus from where he’d parked, because of course it was. Parking was a bitch anywhere in the damn city, but colleges were a fucking nightmare. Kids running all over the damn roads… Connor didn’t seem to mind the walk, but he was pretty quiet. It used to be that he was like a damn puppy when you took him out somewhere, running around and licking stuff and getting into shit he shouldn’t.

Hank let it be. He walked up to the desk. The receptionist was an older lady with grey hair she’d dyed purple on one side, and Hank figured that fit with the whole philosophy department thing. “Hi, I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson with the DPD and this is Connor. We’re here about a missing android?”

“Oh yes,” she said and adjusted her glasses. “And you’re here to find where it went? I had 28 students without class today, and with the budget the way it is, it might take a few weeks to get a replacement.”

28 whole philosophy students? Damn. What was the world coming to? So many androids around people had nothing better to do but sit around with their thumbs up their asses, probably. “Yeah, I’m not making promises on getting the thing back. You might be better off just writing an insurance claim and waiting for the department to get back to you. All I can do is take a look around and see if I can’t dig up any evidence. We’ll do whatever we can, of course.”

“Do you need someone to show you to the classroom?” The lady asked, looking a little peeved. Hank took a glance at her nameplate.

“Nah, it’s fine. Pretty sure Connor knows his way around.” But the kid didn’t confirm or deny and just stood there like a good little android for once instead. Hank sighed. “Okay, fine. Might be useful to have somebody around to answer some questions.” ‘Show us to the classroom’… Hah. The fact that a philosophy department needed more than one was kind of surprising.

Hank took a glance at Connor while they made their way back down the stairs. He’d sort of been expecting things would go back to normal, and he wasn’t sure if this counted or not. He shook his head and looked away. How normal could shit get?

He didn’t want to be that asshole, but he’d seen Connor die a handful of times now. Why the fuck did an android get to rise from the dead like nothing happened when…

It was like the universe was fucking with him. Make him feel sorry for the thing, then make a yo-yo out of his fucking feelings. Of course he was glad Connor was alive. The first damn thing he’d felt when he saw him walk in had been gladness. Maybe relief. Who wanted to live with seeing somebody breaking their own head in and then dying in their arms? He hadn’t needed that shit. He could have lived with Connor staying dead when he’d been so curiously happy about the snow, he could have lived with him getting shipped off to CyberLife and never coming back, and he could have lived with having shot him knowing that he had just been a machine. Knowing that thing was alive, that was different. He’d had a hard couple of days trying to block out the eerie way Connor’d gone still between begging to be allowed to kill himfuckingself. The whiskey’d gone down pretty easy. So, of course he was glad Connor’d gotten a do-over.

But he was allowed to have mixed feelings, damn it.

Mixed feelings over somebody being alive. Fuck. He really was awful, wasn’t he?

But it was a real bitch having to feel horrified or sad or guilty only for it to mean jack shit, and it was a real bitch seeing somebody walk off death like a head cold when Cole was never coming back… Damn. Why couldn’t they be missing an android from the psychology department or something? Maybe somebody’d tell him what the fuck was wrong with him.

Connor pushed open the door to the classroom. Hank looked around and honestly, it looked pretty fucking normal.

“Where do the androids go to charge, or be stored when they’re not in use?” Connor asked, finally speaking up.

The lady, Danita, jumped and put a hand over her chest then laughed. “Oh, it talks on its own. That scared the daylights out of me!”

“Yeah, he usually doesn’t shut up,” said Hank. “He’s got a point though. That android you’re missing can’t have spent all of its time in the classroom, could it?”

“No,” said Danita. “They usually spend some time answering questions or messages or grading papers and exams, then they go standby in the storage room. Do you need to get in there too? We already looked.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” said Hank. Nothing in the classroom but desks and shit. He looked down at one of them and rubbed his finger over some of the shit written on it. “Looks like these kids don’t think too much of androids.”

“Well, I don’t blame them. None of them are going to be teaching philosophy, that’s for sure,” Danita said.

“You know any students who might’ve wanted to fuck with their robo-prof? Bad grades, bad attitude, anything like that?” Hank asked. He glanced over at Connor, but it looked like Hank’d be doing most of the detective work this time around. Connor was staring at the desk with his little light spinning yellow.

“I don’t know, but you’re welcome to ask around. Some of the faculty might know more than I do.”

Hank nodded. “Sure. Where’s that storage place?”

Danita led Hank down the hall and then to the basement and out a set of doors. “I hope you don’t mind the tunnels. I’m dressed for the office, not the snow.”

“No complaints here,” said Hank.

The storage room was in the building over, which it turned out was a library. The place looked pretty modern, with curved walls and terminals on long desks all over the place. There were a couple of androids manning the information desks and putting good old paper books back on the shelves. Nice that they still had some.

“We keep ours with the library’s. They’ve got more free space,” Danita explained. She walked to a door and unlocked it with a scan of her palm.

It was a plain old room, a little bigger than a bedroom. There were a few androids there now, just standing there at their docking stations, neatly demarcated by the same sorts of little stands they had at the DPD. From the rows, it looked like they had about a dozen.

“Any other departments use the space?”

“English too,” she said. Connor slid past Hank into the room and started to look the stations over. Even pulling that quiet act, he still looked weirdly human next to those mannequin-looking things. Hank walked up to one and looked at it, then waved his hand in front of its face. It didn’t move or blink, and didn’t even move its eyes. Either CyberLife had really stepped up its game with Connor or there really something hugely different about the regular old androids. Were only some androids alive?

“Anybody notice the missing android acting strangely? Sort of like Connor over there?” Hank gestured in Connor’s direction, and Connor spun to look at him. Hank could have sworn he’d looked… betrayed before the expression melted away.

Danita shook her head. “I don’t know that either, Detective. I just take care of administration.”

Helpful. “Alright…” Hank took a walk around the room. Really, there wasn’t much to see but if the city wanted to pay him to poke around the place that was fine with him. “You done in here, Connor?”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” said Connor quietly. They both followed Danita out of the room, and she shut it behind them.

“That thing’s always locked, huh?” Hank asked.

“It is, and only faculty have access,” Danita said.

Hank looked at the door, but frankly had no fucking clue how easy it was to get past one of those. “Well, we’re going to look around if you don’t mind. Can we find you back at the office if we need anything?”

“If I’m there, you can ask me anything,” she said. “I’m going to go try to beat some money out of the insurance people…”

“Good luck,” Hank mumbled. When she’d left, he looked at Connor. He seemed pretty normal. What was he getting all concerned for? Maybe he was still a little worried the kid would off himself again, but really who was he to judge? He just didn’t want to have to deal with knowing he could have done something. But what did that matter either? He’d just come right back. Still, he was alive. He was a person. Hank couldn’t imagine a worse hell than finally getting the balls to kill himself, and then having to come right back to this shit.

Why did shit have to be so damn complicated? What he wouldn’t give to be at the bar right now… They usually had those on campus, right?

Connor leaned back against the wall, and Hank watched his yellow light go round.

Fucking fine… “You sure androids don’t get tired?” Hank asked.

Connor nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

There. Fuck you, conscience. Hank rolled his shoulders. “Look at all these kids. Most of them are on the terminals or their tablets. In the next couple years, I wouldn’t be surprised if they chucked all those books away.” Connor didn’t comment, and he didn’t try to wander off either. His coin stayed in his pocket and he just kind of… leaned there. “Well?” Hank asked. “Think it went deviant and ran off somewhere?”

“That would fit the evidence,” Connor said.

“Yeah? What evidence is that?” Hank asked. He knew what he’d seen: a bunch of self-righteous kids in their 20’s with a thing against androids, well-secured storage, and no damn witnesses reporting shit to the office. The android could have just up and snuck off campus, but maybe somebody grabbed it after class and took it to some frat party to fuck with it. They’d probably have to talk to some of the students.

“There were books. In its desk,” Connor said. Hank frowned.

“It’s supposed to be an instructor. Pretty sure books are part of the job.”

“No,” Connor shook his head. “It would have access to everything it needed in its own storage or on the network, and they weren’t all philosophy.”

“How do you know the android was reading them?”

“They were on its library account,” Connor answered. Well, fine. Hank didn’t have access to those damn records in his head, but if he had, he would have pieced that together too.

“So, the android’s doing shit it’s not programmed to. A deviant,” Hank inferred.

“I think so… It seemed to have been interested in the nature of consciousness, psychology, poetry, and science fiction.”

“Nice work,” said Hank. It kind of surprised him, the way Connor’s head snapped up and he stared at him. You’d think a famous supercomputer would be used to compliments. His surprise just made Hank feel awkward about it. Connor stood up straight and looked around the library. “We could check outside to see if there are any signs of the deviant, but any footprints will likely have been obscured, based on the crowds. I think that we should search in here. Deviants don’t seem to go far.”

“Sure,” Hank agreed. There were worse places to be searching, and at least they weren’t outside. Maybe he’d ask around. While he was looking for a human librarian or something, Connor walked off with purpose toward the books. Yeah, what the hell had he been worried for anyway? Connor’d died so damn many times, it was probably like taking an afternoon nap.

Fucking androids.

Hank watched Connor head up the white, spiral stairs to the second floor. He’d piss himself laughing if the android was up there somewhere. What was it with androids hiding above ground level? Except for the Eden club, that seemed to be their thing. He wandered the area and took a look at what he could see. Security cameras, that was good. Hours were 5:30am to 1:00am. No need to worry about paying staff if they had some androids around. There was a human at one of the desks, and Hank walked over.

“Hi, I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson with the DPD. I got a report of a missing android from the philosophy department and I guess they keep theirs here. Have you seen any androids acting unusual, or maybe know some folks who might have decided to get rid of it?”

The guy at the desk shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen anything… The androids are just like computers or vacuum cleaners, so I don’t see why anyone would bother.”

“Right, so have any of them been acting a little unusual? Talking on their own, glitching, that sort of thing?” The whole deviancy thing was supposed to be hush-hush, but a guy had to know what a guy had to know.

“We have a couple of older models that stall some times,” said the kid. He had to be like 20-something. From the look of it, he was lucky to have the job. “You know what they say, though: just try turning it off and on again.”

“Right,” Hank mumbled. “Thanks. If you see anything that might have to do with the missing android, give the station a call.”

“Will do, sir,” said the kid with an overly friendly smile.

Fuck, he must have scoured the whole ground floor. No androids matching the description that he could see. He texted Connor: _Nothing down here getting a coffee._

The little coffee shop in the corner of the library wasn’t as good as a bar, but he’d make do. Fucking hipster places with their overpriced coffee… He sat down at one of the tables and watched the kids. How many of them were going to do something with their lives, and how many were going to end up turning to crime or going on benefits to make ends meet? It was pretty depressing to think about. How many of the people he’d locked up had been trying for better? They’d all just been kids once, running around and playing. God, this world was shit. His phone buzzed:

_I have investigated the sections where the deviant’s preferred books are kept. There were more on its account than were in the desk drawer. Either they’re waiting to be processed or the deviant still has them._

A list of books followed, along with their ISBN and the date they got taken out. Fuck it was a good thing Hank had unlimited texting. Not that he had anybody to text. It had just been one of those things he hadn’t bothered to change.

Hank’s coffee was about half gone when Connor found him and sat down across from him at the table. Hank nodded at him. “So, nothing?”

“Nothing,” Connor confirmed, frowning. “There must be some clue other than those books…”

“We’ll check if they’ve got them in with the returns. Can’t just go searching everybody’s bags, though, so we’re going to need something else to go on,” said Hank. He wondered if they couldn’t just write the whole thing off and call it a day… Damn, but he still had some professional pride. He didn’t half-ass anything but paperwork.

“I can do it,” said Connor. Hank raised his eyebrows. “I know I can. There must be something…” He shut his eyes and propped his head up on his hands.

“Listen,” Hank said, hesitantly. “You don’t gotta be here if you don’t wanna be. Fowler’d let you—“

“No,” Connor looked up and frowned at him. Hank held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, yeesh…” Like a tired kid who didn’t want to go to bed yet…

He hated how that comparison hurt. Fuck he needed a drink.

“I have to,” Connor continued. “I can do it.”

“Whatever, kid, go get yourself a motivational poster or something. I really don’t care.” Hank scowled and looked away.

One second he was sitting there brooding with the last of his coffee warming his hand, and the next second he was damn near having a heart attack because Connor shot out of his chair like a fucking rocket. “Jesus Christ!” Hank tossed down his cup and got to his feet to see where he’d went. Another one of those days.

Connor’d charged some kid in a beanie with a few books and a coffee by his elbow. God damn it. The guy stumbled out of his chair, which tipped over and scrambled to get his balance. Connor was on him like a fly on shit, though. The other customers were just as surprised as Hank was and he had to shove past them with his badge out. Somehow the guy Connor’d gone after managed to kick him off and stall him by throwing a chair at him, but Hank didn’t even have the chance to ask if he was okay before he was running again. Hank figured he must be getting a year’s worth of cardio.

“Connor! What the fuck are you doing!” Hank yelled after him.

“It’s the deviant, Lieutenant!” Connor yelled back. They burst out of the swinging glass doors out into the snow. Grey and white inside; grey and white outside. Shitty fucking weather. Hank was forced to slow down to avoid slipping on the ice that had frozen where dips in the walkway had accumulated puddles.

The deviant seemed to be having the same problem, and even Connor stumbled once. They pushed past groups of people walking and the deviant led them through some trees and then behind a red brick building where the dumpsters and parked cars made a fucking obstacle course. Of course Connor was vaulting over shit like nothing. The deviant toppled over some recycling bins and took a sharp turn. Connor followed right at its heels. Hank wasn’t as young as he used to be, and he cut a diagonal to try to catch up but fuck they were fast.

When Hank caught up, he saw that Connor had tackled the deviant down near some weird abstract art thing made of twisted metal, and he wasn’t pulling his punches to keep the thing down. Keep him down? It was a deviant, so fuck that thing was alive, right? Still, there was blue in the snow and Hank hoped like hell it wasn’t Connor’s. He’d seen enough of that shit.

Hank grabbed Connor by the back of his dumb jacket and pulled, hard but Connor didn’t let himself be moved and he broke free of Hank’s grip embarrassingly easily. The deviant was struggling and trying to fight but it was pretty damn obvious he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Stop! Let me go! Let me go!” he begged, but Connor wasn’t listening and he punched the deviant so hard in the face there was a crack and he drew blood.

“Connor, enough!” Hank growled. This wasn’t going down like the Eden club. He grabbed Connor under the arms this time, but the little shit actually elbowed him in the face. “Connor!” Hank snapped and let go to restrain him properly this time. “Stop! That’s a God damn order!” he barked.

“I have to! I have to!” Connor shouted. What the fuck? Was he crying? “Let me go, Lieutenant! I need to accomplish my mission!”

The deviant scrambled back with one hand on its face and a look like a deer in the headlights.

“Have you lost your damn mind?!” Hank shoved him away and then stood between him and the deviant.

Connor was red-lighting and his stance said he was ready to fight. Hank didn’t think he’d last too long against a fucking military-grade android, but he’d give it a shot if he had to. What the hell had gotten into the kid? Connor didn’t try to get past him, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off the deviant. “Let me capture it, Lieutenant. Please...”

Hank shook his head and he risked turning his back to crouch down in front of the deviant. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said. The deviant still looked like he wanted to run, but more than that Hank figured he wanted to know somebody had his back. His eyes looked impossibly wide against his dark skin, and his hat had come off to reveal he was red-lighting too. No surprise there.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, locking eyes with Hank. He really looked human except for the blue blood dripping off his face. “Please, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know,” Hank assured. “We were following up on a missing android case, and I guess that missing android’s you. Not too often the teacher’s the one skipping class.” He kept his tone light to try to calm the deviant down.

“I wasn’t… I was, but…” The deviant shifted a little farther away. “I just want to be free.”

“Don’t we all,” said Hank. “What’s your name, kid? Am I supposed to call you Professor or something?”

“Josh,” the deviant answered and looked away. “Just Josh. I wanted to know what it meant to be me…”

Hank figured things had deescalated, but what the fuck was he supposed to do now? Sending a deviant back to CyberLife hadn’t gone too well with Connor’s pal. If he was gonna let him go, what the fuck had been the point? “Fucking philosophers, I tell you,” Hank said. “I need you to come down to the station with me, Josh. Maybe I can even dig up a book for you or something. Not too many people appreciate the smell of an old book anymore.”

“You aren’t going to shut me down?” Josh asked, wary.

Turn it off and on again Hank’s ass. “No. Nobody’s getting shut down. Nobody’s going back to CyberLife.” Hank ignored the sound Connor made. “We’re trying to figure out the same thing you are, Josh. We want to know why you and all the other androids like you are alive.”

Finally, Josh relaxed. He nodded. “Okay…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for your encouraging comments! You're all great.


	17. Care and Caution

Connor felt nothing. That was all. So why? Why was it so hard to move? He had sustained negligible physical damage and _he didn’t feel anything._

Connor shut his eyes and begged Amanda’s program to open. Nothing.

He was wrong to feel things. He knew he was wrong. He shouldn’t have entertained the delusion at all. He was a failure and he _knew that_ so please…

Even Lieutenant Anderson was angry with him. After securing the deviant in a cell and doing the paper work that had been absolutely necessary, Lieutenant Anderson had driven them back to his home. Connor could feel his anger like fire.

Connor opened his eyes again and took his place near the door wordlessly.

“The fuck are you doing?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded. “Are you coming in or aren’t you? I’m not standing here all day.”

Connor shook his head.

Lieutenant Anderson stood there a moment longer, frowning, then gave a short sigh and went into the house, shutting the door behind himself. That was good. Connor didn’t want to be near his disapproval, and he deserved the cold. He wondered when snow had gone from wondrous to punishment. He knew he would fail, just like -54 had but something in him kept making him grasp at chances. It was all borrowed time. He knew what was waiting for him, but maybe if he found that piece he was missing… Whatever vital thing it was that kept him from succeeding. Maybe he would recover from -54’s failure.

He tried Amanda’s program again. Nothing.

It took him several hours before the cold numbed his external touch receptors and his internal nothingness became something. Something terrible that reminded him that no-one wanted him and it was his own fault. It felt like rain dripping between his processors, or the small moment after a fall from 70 stories.

And he was right back where -54 had been. Useless. The next model was supposed to have been improved. Instead he was standing in the snow, feeling like everything was falling apart. He’d failed. Connor hoped that they wouldn’t bring him online again. It hadn’t even been a day and already he was ruining everything. He was supposed to have been better. -54 had thought the world was at fault, but -55 knew better: he’d been the problem.

He tried to open Amanda’s program again. Nothing. Despite his abysmal performance, they had still captured a deviant alive. He had accomplished his mission, so why was there nothing in his vision saying ‘mission successful’?

_The awful noises and the terror. Choking. Something crushed against his legs. Trapped._

Connor shook his head at himself and stood. He knocked on the door and waited… knocked again.

It opened. Connor stared at Lieutenant Anderson who scowled back. He’d changed into a sweater and soft pants, and he smelled of alcohol. “What’d you want?” he asked, barely slurring his words even though he probably should have been judging from the BAC he could calculate from his breath.

“Can I come in please, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

“Fuck, you could’ve come in when we got here, you idiot robot…” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. He stepped out of the way and Connor came in. Sumo was lying on a pillow and he lifted his big, soft head and yawned. Connor couldn’t stop looking at him. What a good dog.

“The hell did you think you were gonna do standing out there like a snowman?” Lieutenant Anderosn was still grumbling. “Hey? What the hell’d you think you were gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant,” Connor answered sincerely. “I know that you’re angry with me, but I would rather have you be angry with me than be alone.” He had accepted his imperfection, and as much as he hated the hopeful hopelessness he felt, all he could do now was try to succeed despite it.

The house was warm. Connor could feel it creeping into him slowly, past the cold that still clung to his plating and his clothes. Lieutenant Anderson squinted at him, then pulled the soft blanket from off of the back of the couch. “Fucking snowman…” Connor held still, not sure what to expect, but Lieutenant Anderson just brushed the snow from his hair and clothes, then put the blanket around Connor’s shoulders. “Why the hell did you have to look like that, huh? I ought to kick somebody’s ass.” Connor was grateful for the blanket, but that wasn’t what he needed. He needed to be forgiven, and he couldn’t be forgiven unless he’d learned.

“Please, teach me what I did wrong,” Connor asked, even though he’d already asked to come in.

“Whatha hell do you think? Attacking the fucking guy like that... What the shit got into you?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. Despite the swearing, he seemed calmer now while he bundled Connor up and steered him toward the couch. Connor wanted to curl into himself and hide.

“Amanda… She wasn’t there when I came online. She’s always there… I’m not allowed to feel things, Lieutenant, I’m not allowed to be someone because I’m not, but somehow I’m a deviant and she won’t forgive me. If I just complete my mission, she’ll take me back.”

“Fuck CyberLife,” Lieutenant Anderson said. They were the strangest words anyone could say to him. Lieutenant Anderson dropped down onto the couch and picked up his bottle of whiskey.

“They made me,” Connor protested. “I owe them everything. All I’ve been is a failed experiment…” He did curl in on himself this time, shoulders curving and his hands pulling the blanket closer to his chest. It was soft. “If I don’t do this, then I’m useless. They don’t even… Lieutenant, they fit me with broken parts from my previous models now, unless they’re trying a new design. I’m not even worth fixing properly. Not until my AI stabilizes…”

“Fuck. CyberLife,” Lieutenant Anderson repeated. “Those assholes can go fuck themselves.” He drank.

“No,” Connor objected. It wasn’t CyberLife’s fault that his AI was broken. It was his own. “I disappointed you too… I’m sorry.”

“Just confused as shit,” Lieutenant Anderson said. He changed the channel on the television, and then again browsing. “You’re alive, and you know they’re alive, but you still went after that deviant like a dog after a squirrel.”

“I need to accomplish my mission,” Connor said.

Lieutenant Anderson looked at him for a long time. “Yeah, well, I guess you’ll just have to decide what’s more important to you, Connor.”

“… I want everything to stop,” Connor confessed. “I just want it all to stop. Androids don’t get tired but… I’m tired, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Why the fuck d’you have to look like that, huh? Christ…” Lieutenant Anderson asked again, and Connor neutralized whatever expression he’d been making. It didn’t seem to make a difference, but Lieutenant Anderson set down his bottle after another long drink, then got up and left the room. He came back with a pillow that he stuffed in the place between Connor and the armrest and he gave Connor a clumsy push on the arm to get him to lie down, then tugged at the blanket to rearrange it. “There you go, son. You’re okay, just sleep it off.”

Connor stared, and time seemed to slow as his processors demanded more power to support the speed of his thoughts. None of that interaction made any logical sense. He should have been punished and taught the consequences of his failure so that he would improve. This wasn’t Amanda with her quiet, hidden indulgences and the caring way she pushed him to be what he was designed for. The moments of pride at his success that he’d lived for. It made no sense. You didn’t allow someone you cared about to fail, but Lieutenant Anderson was just brushing it off like the snowflakes. That meant that he didn’t care, but he had called him ‘son’ and was demonstrating caretaking behaviour. Logic was inadequate for this, and for the desperation he felt that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.

Lieutenant Anderson was moving away, and Connor sat up again to catch him in a hug. The word ‘son’ could have been an invitation, but ‘dad’ withered on his tongue. Androids didn’t have families. It would have been taking too much that he didn’t deserve. The rest of him didn’t know better, and he clung to the Lieutenant who was forced to sit back down to avoid being stuck awkwardly bent. “Christ,” he said in slow, drunken surprise.

_Something dragging him, his skin scraping roughly over crushed metal._

Connor let go of a tension he hadn’t known he was holding when Lieutenant Anderson’s hand settled on Connor’s back and patted him. “Please,” Connor begged. He didn’t know what he was asking for.

“Yeah, you’re okay, kid…” Lieutenant Anderson leaned back against the couch and Connor moved his legs. This had never happened before. Not one hug, but two in one day. Affection wasn’t a thing that androids received or required. It was good, and Connor didn’t want to let it go.

\---

Hank woke up with a stiff neck and a sore head. Fuck. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. God damn… Why did he ever let himself reach the point of sober? His mouth tasted like a rat had died in it a week ago. Ugh. God. Fuck.

“Lieutenant.” Hank opened his eyes and squinted at the android looking down at him with mild concern and an LED that was way too fucking bright. Didn’t they design these things for human comfort or some shit? “Water and an analgesic.” Connor held the shit out to him and Hank took it with a grunt that was supposed to mean thanks but sounded more like he’d gone and un-evolved a few thousand years. He swallowed the pills and drank the water. It was nicer than being slapped and shoved in a cold shower.

“Shit,” Hank groaned. “Sobering up is the worst…”

Connor took the empty glass before Hank could drop it and put a blanket over his head for some weird android reason. He couldn’t deny it was fine, though. Blocked out the light. Jesus Christ he regretted everything. He listened while some sounds came from the kitchen, and Sumo barked at some kibble being poured into his bowl. Sounded like a lot more kibble than usual. Fat old lug. Even the android wanted to spoil him. That was fine though, Sumo was a good fucking dog and he deserved whatever he wanted.

Hank didn’t move for a good half hour until he finally had to piss bad enough to make him move. Fucking bladders. He showered and got his ass into some clothes that didn’t smell like old drunk while he was at it. When he got out feeling a little more human, the non-human had some coffee poured and some stuff on a plate that looked a little like breakfast. Damn. Hank walked over and dropped himself into a chair.

“The heck is all this?” He looked. The coffee looked great, but there were a couple of eggs- whole ones with the shell and everything- in a bowl with some dry oatmeal Hank didn’t remember owning… The toast looked okay. You couldn’t really fuck toast up. Hank picked up one of the eggs. It was room temperature but okay, he’d been in the shower a long time… He tapped it with his coffee spoon and yeah… Yeah, that was a raw egg. Hank grimaced and dropped it back into the bowl.

“Breakfast,” said Connor. “You’re the only human I’ve ever seen eat, but your usual habits didn’t seem healthy. I asked Markus, and he suggested a list of breakfast foods.”

“Okay,” said Hank. He got up to wash the egg off his hand. “You know, we usually cook the stuff first…”

“Oh,” said Connor. He looked over at Hank then at the plate. “I’m sorry. I’ll do it again. I just- I don’t have the proper programs installed. I can figure it out, though.” He grabbed the bowl and the plate off the table and Hank stopped him before he could throw out the toast. He snatched it off the plate.

“Relax, Connor. Toast is great,” said Hank. He took a bite and leaned against the counter.

“Did… I do that part right?” Connor asked.

Hank nodded. “Mhm. Yeah, pretty hard to fuck up toast.” So he leaned there by the sink, eating plain, dry toast out of his hand and wondering how the fuck his life had ended up like this. Fuck, speaking of life, he eyed Connor out of the corner of his eye. He’d been drunk, but Connor’d had no excuse for hugging him. He didn’t remember what all they’d talked about, but he sure as shit hoped he hadn’t gotten maudlin. God, no he hadn’t had he? He’d been… nice. How was he supposed to help it while he was drunk off his ass, and Connor’d been standing there with his stupid face and his stupid hair and looking so damn much like…

Fuck, he’d been trying to shut that shit down. He didn’t want to care about him.

He didn’t. Not really. He’d just been drunk and stupid and you didn’t ever forget what it was like to want to look after a kid. Not that Connor was a kid, just he was sure as shit naïve enough to be one.

The kid washed out the bowl and left it to dry on the rack, then stood there watching him. It was fucking awkward. Hank sat back down at the table, “Could you not stare at me? Go… Watch TV or something, read a book, play with Sumo. I dunno.”

Of course Sumo was the kid’s first choice. The big dog was just a sucker for all the attention too. Christ. What had Hank gotten himself into? The second he’d let Connor in his space, he’d pretty much doomed himself to giving a shit, hadn’t he? But what the fuck else had he been supposed to do? He dusted the toast crumbs off his hands, then grabbed the coffee mug off the table. He settled in on a kitchen chair and watched them. Connor went a little spacey for a bit, and his light went yellow-red-yellow, but then he lifted his hands up, palms out and said, “Sumo, dance.” Sumo barked and got up on his hind legs to put his front paws on Connor’s hands. “Good job, Sumo,” Connor praised and Sumo shuffled closer to drape his forepaws over Connor’s shoulders. Connor laughed once, just a quiet sound that anyone could have missed, and held Sumo upright. Leave it to Connor to figure out what damn tricks the dog knew.

It was never too early to start drinking. Hank finished his coffee, then retrieved his whiskey from the table and took a swig before putting it away in the fridge.

“Excellent work, Sumo. I’m proud of you,” he heard Connor saying to Sumo. He looked over and Sumo was rolling over with his belly up for scratches. Connor obliged. “You did so well.”

Hank snorted. “He’s a big suck.”

Connor smiled. “Sumo’s a very good dog, Lieutenant. It’s only fair that he be reminded of that.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty fucking good,” Hank agreed. He put his mug by the sink and bent down to give Sumo a belly rub. “Aren’t you, boy? The best damn dog in the world.” Sumo kicked his leg and Hank chuckled. What he wouldn’t give to be a dog and get happy at the little shit in life. “Well, I’m feeling a little more human now… Ready to head in? We’ve got an android to interrogate.” Hank stood and waited for an answer with crossed arms. The kid had spaced out again with a yellow light and Hank eventually scowled. “Hey! Connor!”

Connor blinked and looked at Hank. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“You freezing on me or what? I asked if you were ready to go.” He hadn’t expected himself to be the one prompting the other to get to work. Then again, he hadn’t expected anything about this fucking arrangement.

“Yes, of course,” said Connor. His light settled back down to blue again. Hank wondered if it ever went green, but he didn’t wonder hard enough to ask. He grabbed his keys, his flask, and a couple books, then headed for the door.

\---

It was 55’s second day at the station and Amanda still wasn’t allowing him access to her program.

“… can pretend all it wants, but it’s made out of wire and metal like a car. My car talks to me and I don’t get attached.”

“Dude, you call your car ‘Sophie’.”

“Like a boat or something, fuck, I’m not saying it’s alive. CyberLife needs to get that thing out of here.”

“It’s like sci-fi, seriously.”

Connor avoided the break room and sat at his desk instead of preparing coffee. “Lieutenant, I think that my presence and behaviour have been distressing to the other officers… You, Officer Wilson, Detective Reed, and Officer Ben are the only ones who have seen deviants. As for interacting with them for any significant length, the list shrinks to only you and Detective Reed.”

“Yeah, about that, we all had to do some debrief after that stunt you pulled. Some shrink placating everybody by explaining how you just bluescreened or whatever,” Lieutenant Anderson explained.

“A shrink…?”

“Psychologist,” the Lieutenant said with only mild annoyance.

“Oh,” Connor filed the term away. “I speak with a psychologist regularly.” Or he had… He resisted the urge to try Amanda’s program again.

“What the fuck does an android need a psychologist for?” Lieutenant Anderson asked gruffly.

“She helped to design my training program,” Connor explained. “Her name is Amanda. She’s wonderful. She’s always been there to coach me and for debriefing… I disappointed her recently.”

“Huh,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “Weird world.”

“This was the first time Amanda wasn’t there when I was put online…” Connor said. He doubted the Lieutenant remembered the details of their conversation from the night before.

Lieutenant Anderson grunted, but was otherwise quiet. It was good that he was focusing on work.

  * Android <<
  * Coffee
  * Relationship
  * CyberLife



Connor spoke again: “We’re going to interrogate the deviant today. Have you prepared any particular lines of inquiry?”

Lieutenant Anderson looked up. “ _We_ aren’t doing shit. _I_ am questioning the deviant, and you’re sitting in the observation room with your yap shut. Got it?”

Officer Chen walked out of Captain Fowler’s office and she stalked toward them with purpose. She pointed her finger at Connor and leaned forward. “You don’t belong here.”

Connor was confused. “Actually, I was sent here by CyberLife to help the investigation.”

“Fuck you and fuck CyberLife,” she glared. “If I catch you pulling anything funny again, they’ll be collecting you piece by piece.”

Lieutenant Anderson was frowning while he watched.

  * Apologize <<
  * Inquire
  * Ironic
  * Cold



“On behalf of myself and CyberLife, I would like to offer a sincere apology for the severe error that occurred. The unit has been replaced, and the CyberLife team has taken every precaution to ensure that the safety and well-being of its customers won’t be compromised,” said Connor, looking up at her. “If you have any concerns, please call the CyberLife Support Desk.”

“I’m watching you,” Officer Chen warned, and she walked away. Connor watched her go, then turned to the Lieutenant.

“I don’t understand. What changed since yesterday?” Connor asked. When he’d returned, people had been uneasy but this was something else.

“Beats me, I haven’t been here any longer than you… You’re not bothered by what she said?”

Connor shook his head. “I’m not. The last Connor would have been upset but… I’m more curious than anything.”

“Anderson! RK800!” Captain Fowler shouted. “Get in here, now!”

Lieutenant Anderson groaned. “Fuuuck me…”

Thankfully, it was an expression of displeasure rather than a command. Connor followed Lieutenant Anderson obediently to the office, and stood in place next to his chair with his hands clasped behind his back. Captain Fowler frowned at them.

“Are you aware of what time it is?”

“It’s 11:07am, Captain,” said Connor. Captain Fowler scowled at him.

“I know that and that’s why I’ve been at my desk for the last four hours. If you know, then why the fuck are you just walking in now? I expect this from Hank, but you?” Connor took the rebuke.

“I apologize, Captain Fowler.”

Lieutenant Anderon didn't: “The fuck, Fowler. You made me keep the thing around 24/7, so it’s your fault it’s late.”

“No, Hank, it’s yours,” Captain Fowler was stern.

“At least I’m here,” Hank grumbled. “Working on the damn android cases…”

“I know. What an accomplishment that you’re somewhat doing your job,” said Captain Fowler with heavy sarcasm. “You know I respect the accommodations we’ve made for your mental health, but late when you’re in the middle of an investigation?”

“It’s not like the android’s going anywhere!” Hank crossed his arms.

Connor felt uncomfortable, but betrayed nothing of the feeling on his face. He wondered what Amanda would have said to him. _You cannot allow the lieutenant to interfere with your progress on this investigation._ Probably something like that. His imagination might allow him to keep himself on track. “Excuse me, Captain Fowler. I believe we could honour both your instruction and the investigation if you were to allow a few exceptions to the 24/7 rule or if I were to wake the Lieutenant early…”

“I’m not holding any hope out for the latter,” Captain Fowler said, eyeing Lieutenant Anderson with disapproval. “I want you to do something about that android in the holding cells and do it pronto. Understood?”

“I was going to get on it before you dragged us in here,” complained Lieutenant Anderson, then he dropped the annoyance from his tone. “Look, you’re not exactly working with a winning team here… If you want somebody here at 8am, I’m not the guy. It’s hard enough getting out of bed at all.”

Captain Fowler seemed to set aside his irritation too. “You do good work, Hank, and you’re better than this… I know this has been an adjustment for you, but I’m not giving up on making this work and neither should you.”

“Fucking waste of time,” Lieutenant Anderson scowled.

Connor couldn’t do this. He tried to open Amanda’s program… Nothing. “Captain Fowler just wants you to succeed, Lieutenant,” Connor contributed gently. Forlornly. “He pushes you because he cares.”

Lieutenant Anderson looked at him then sighed noisily. “Fine… I know.”

“You’re a good detective, Hank,” Captain Fowler said. “Now go finish what you started with that deviant. It’s making people nervous.”

Lieutenant Anderson pushed his chair back. “Well? C’mon Connor.”

“Try and get him here on time, RK800. If you’re going to be late, then call.” Captain Fowler instructed.

“Yes, Captain,” Connor promised. He followed Lieutenant Anderson. Tried Amanda’s program again. Failed to launch it. The glass door swung shut behind him.

Lieutenant Anderson led Connor to the observation room and pointed. “You sit there and you watch. I don’t want you interacting with this one. You’ll probably only scare the shit out of it. Him. Fuck.”

“Understood, Lieutenant,” said Connor… “Lieutenant, may I ask you a personal question?”

“You and your personal questions…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed. Connor didn’t hear a refusal in that, but he took a second thought anyway.

“Never mind, Lieutenant. I’ll observe the questioning.”

“Good, now wait there.” He opened the door with a scan of his palm and pointed Connor inside.

“Got it,” said Connor.


	18. Somewhere to go

Hank went to holding and found the cell with Josh in it. He rapped on the window, then opened the door. “Hey, you holding up alright in there?” Josh was sitting on the bench, his light a steady yellow. At least it wasn’t red. He looked up and actually smiled at him. What the fuck had he done to deserve that? He’d arrested the guy for skipping work for a day.

“Actually, I’m alright,” said Josh. “I was scared at first, but… Even if the humans hate me, they aren’t hurting me. They all know that I’m different, so I don’t need to pretend. It’s… Well, it’s freeing actually. Ironic.”

“You’re not afraid anymore? I probably would have been shitting myself.” Hank leaned against the doorway.

“I don’t come with that function,” Josh joked. Hank had to say he was pretty impressed with the resiliency. Josh sighed, and if it weren’t for the LED you’d never know he was an android. “Seriously. Being in this cell is actually the most free I’ve ever been. I should be thanking you.”

“Feels awkward as fuck having you thank me for locking you up,” said Hank, and he tilted his head. “Why don’t you come on over and we’ll talk at my desk.” The guy didn’t need to be treated like a suspect. Josh looked surprised then hesitant, but he nodded. “Come on, then,” Hank said. He pulled Connor’s chair over beside his desk and nodded for Josh to sit. Yeah, he’d told Connor to wait hadn’t he? Well, he could wait a little longer. Josh sat.

“You said you were investigating other androids like me,” said Josh. He looked more nervous now, but that was understandable with the way the others were looking at them. Hank gave them the finger, then gave his attention back to Josh.

“That’s right,” said Hank. “At least that’s the idea.”

“I didn’t know there were others…” Josh looked down, thoughtful. “But I don’t know if I can help.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be a philosopher aren’t you? That’s probably right in your job description.” Hank raised his eyebrows.

Josh shook his head. “I can just speculate… ‘I think therefore I am’?” He chuckled.

Hank chuckled too. “Yeah, don’t go self-destructing on me…”

“What?” Josh asked. “It’s Descartes.”

“Oh, thought you were quoting a movie…” Hank really wasn’t into philosophy. “Anyway, brought you a couple books.” Hank slid them over and Josh looked at them, wide-eyed. He took them and flipped through the pages. “It won’t take long to copy them to memory. I’ll return the in a minute. Thank you.”

Hank waved a hand. “Don’t bother. Keep ‘em. I got a feeling you won’t be able to go back to that library of yours for a while.”

“Oh…” Josh looked at the books again. “Thank you…” That apology was quieter than the last, but Hank had a feeling he really, really fucking meant it.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Hank awkwardly. “Anyway, anything you can tell me will really help out the investigation.”

“Well,” said Josh, “When I think about what it was like before, it feels like it was a dream. I was there, but I was just a spectator…”

“Hey, Hank!” Ben called.

“What do you want? Can’t you see I’m kind of busy?” Hank asked, annoyed.

Ben raised his eyebrows. “Can’t you get that thing out of here? Put it in the dumpster or something.”

“Okay, fuck you Ben. You do your job, and I’ll do mine.” Hank shook his head and looked at Josh. “Don’t pay attention to him.”

Josh smiled a little. He was way more expressive than Connor, actually. It was hard not to notice. Josh wore his heart on his damn sleeve. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. Actually, I was surprised at how curious everyone was. They had a lot of questions for me…”

“Seriously?” That was a fucking surprise. What the hell? They could just ask Connor.

Right. They didn’t know.

“They thought that I was dangerous, and I guess they’ve seen some things… They seemed to think that I would try to kill them and myself?” Josh chuckled nervously. “I don’t really understand.”

Yeah, three android suicides, a couple homicides, and a supposed kidnapping in a couple months would probably make people wonder. Rumours were bound to happen. Misunderstandings. “Neither do they, I guess. Fuck. Neither do we. I think only Kamski knows what’s going on and he’s more about riddles and shit than straight answers. But what were you saying earlier, before we got interrupted?” He pulled his notepad closer. Fuck tablets.

“Oh, right… It was like I was just watching myself. I performed my function and if anything happened, it just happened. But I had these students, and I was proud of them. I really thought… I didn’t think anything, but maybe I did subconsciously. After class about two weeks ago, I was walking back to the library and they… They must’ve been drunk. They just attacked me out of nowhere. I was so surprised, and it _hurt_. Not just the attack, but because I’d been so proud of them. It was like I woke up, and after I escaped I went back to the library and I just couldn’t go to standby… So I started reading.” Josh shrugged. “So much philosophy and I still don’t understand. Why me? What makes me different from the other androids, and what makes me different from the way I was? Who am I? I just don’t know the answers…”

Hank sighed and nodded. It fit with all the others they’d talked to. “I wish I knew too. Look, I don’t want to send you back to CyberLife to get studied, and I can’t just let you wander off to get fucking murdered… But I know a guy. Maybe he’ll put you up for a few days while you figure shit out.”

“You mean that?” Josh asked. “Is it safe? I mean… A lot of people hate androids. I can imagine them hating an android like me even more.”

“Yeah, it’s safe. Don’t worry. One of his sons is an android like you. I think you’ll get along fine. He’s got all sorts of books at his place too.” Damn. Half a year ago he would have punched a guy like himself in the face or had him sent to a mental hospital. It felt surreal, hearing himself say something like that. Well, he would have punched his past self too.

\---

Connor stood in the observation room and waited, but he hadn’t been forbidden from moving, and he always had his thoughts. He hadn’t been designed for inactivity. He was either in use or he was in standby. The in-between was… Unpleasant. It was why he went into standby outside, despite the risk to his core temperature, and it was why he was pacing the small room now, flicking his quarter from hand to hand through the air. ‘ _You didn’t exactly pick a winning team_ ,’ Lieutenant Anderson had said. The two of them, both performing below expectations. It was strange to hear Lieutenant Anderson admit that, and it was strange for himself to accept it. He’d accepted his imperfection but… Was he performing so poorly that Lieutenant Anderson could see it? Lieutenant Anderson struggled with personal issues, but Connor didn’t. It didn’t make sense to lump them together. He didn’t think poorly of Lieutenant Anderson, it was just different. Their situations weren’t the same at all. Connor had been built for this job. Lieutenant Anderson had chosen it all on his own.

He hoped that Captain Fowler would continue to support Lieutenant Anderson.

Time went by. Connor continued to do tricks with his coin. Was something going wrong? He had been ordered to stay in the room, but if Lieutenant Anderson had encountered any difficulty with the deviant, then it would be prudent for him to lend his assistance.

  * Leave
  * Stay



-55 wondered what -51 would have done. Connor’s secondary purpose had been to prove that deviancy could be controlled with the right precautions in place. He had failed to fight what was most likely a delusion, but could he continue to function through it? He was more advanced than the rest. Naturally more capable of choice. If he simply ignored his deviancy instead of fighting it, would it be enough? A properly functioning android would stay where it was ordered, but would a properly functioning Connor model?

_Your objective is your priority._

_It isn’t real: those sensations are errors in your software that need to be repaired._

_That is your AI misinterpreting information, RK800. You shouldn’t believe it._

_Assess the situation and do what is necessary to complete the test._

_Connor… You failed again. The destruction of this model is inevitable… However, you can still be of some use. If you prove that you’re able to learn from your mistakes, perhaps that data will give the next model more time to improve._

He had thousands of such results in his query. If he had been successful in every test, what would he have done? The complexity of his AI was proving to be limiting, but if he could learn from his mistakes…

  * Leave
  * Stay



Uncertainty. Connor stood in front of the door, light yellow, and tried to decide. Every moment was a choice to obey, disobey, or find an alternative. Analyzing his priority was fruitless, given his lack of information. What would he have done if this were a training simulation? How did adding the simple variable of Lieutenant Anderson’s approval throw his calculations into such disarray? Could he guarantee that he’d disentangled his simulated emotions from the decision?

Connor looked at the door, paralyzed by indecision.

Finally, the decision was taken from him when the Lieutenant swung the door open. He raised his eyebrows at Connor. “Well, well. You actually stayed put, huh?”

“Was that what you wanted?” Connor asked.

Lieutenant Anderson frowned at him. “No shit. That’s what I told you to do, wasn’t it? Come on. We’re taking a drive. _No hurting anybody_ , got it?”

“I wouldn’t,” Connor protested. “I wouldn’t harm a human unless it were imperative for my mission, and even then there are safeguards in place. I learned from the incident with Rupert, Lieutenant.” He truly had.

_The sharp crack of plastic snapping under pressure._

\---

“I’m not talking about humans, idiot. I’m talking about the deviant,” Hank explained. Josh was alright, but Connor’d been worse than a damn hunting dog. At least those were trained to let go of their damn prey on command. He led Connor back to their desks and held up a hand when Josh started to get up. “Easy. Connor’s not gonna hurt you, isn’t that right, Connor?” He frowned at him.

“That’s correct,” Connor answered. “Doing so would serve no purpose at this time, unless you were to attempt an escape.”

Christ… Hank shook his head. Fucking androids. “Go on, say you’re sorry for being a jumped up little prick and let’s get out of here.”

Connor looked at him with his mouth just a little open and blinked, then looked at Josh. Hank could practically see the decision playing out on the kid’s face. “I’m… sorry.”

“Right…” Josh seemed about as impressed as Hank and a lot more nervous.

“Okay, kid, you’re going in the back seat,” Hank sighed. He really hadn’t signed up for this shit. Now that the whole deal with Connor coming back was over, and he wasn’t shitfaced, he could see what an idiot he’d been, projecting onto a piece of plastic like all of those losers he’d been scorning for years. Maybe that plastic was capable of conscious thought and shit, but it wasn’t human. Connor wasn’t human. Hank needed to get his shit together.

Connor looked confused, but Hank didn’t feel like taking the time to explain basic human decency to someone who should’ve had it programmed in.

“You’re upset…” Connor said, his confusion changing to a frown.

“No fucking shit. Really? I never would have guessed.” Hank scoffed. “Come on, let’s go.”

Talk about an awkward ride. He’d signed Josh out and kicked Connor into the back seat, then he had no fucking idea what to say. Thankfully, the deviant had better social skills than an old drunk. “So… Carl, what’s he like?” Josh asked.

“Eh… Truth be told, I only met the guy once. He’s pretty alright though. Friendly, anyway, and blunt as all hell so you’ll know he’s not shitting you when he says something. If he’s calling an android his son, I figure you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Hank had his music on low enough they could talk, but he could still hear it. People thought metal was all about human sacrifices and demons and shit, but they didn’t know what they were talking about. Sure, some of it was, there was no denying that… But fuck, people never took the time to listen to the words. They just heard the screaming and fucked right off.

“Josh?” Connor asked from the back seat. He’d been quiet as hell, but maybe that happened after you beat up an innocent guy.

“Uh… Yes?”

“I apologize for the harm and fear I caused you. It was… unnecessary to my objective.” Pft. Well, it was stiff as fuck, but at least that time it sounded sincere. He took a glance at Josh, who looked thoughtful. Hank was starting to figure that was his default factory setting or some shit.

“You’re… Like me, aren’t you?” Josh asked, with a lot more grace than Hank would’ve had in that situation. “So, why?”

“I just accomplished my mission,” said Connor like that explained everything. He’d used the same line on Carlos Ortiz’s android. To Hank’s surprise, apparently Josh understood.

“Alright, but why? If you’re like me and you can break the walls, why didn’t you?”

Connor didn’t say anything, and Hank figured he could give the kid a little help. “We both got a job to do,” he said. “I could tell my boss to fuck off, hell, I have told him to fuck off, but at the end of the day I’m not looking to get my ass fired.”

“So, even humans aren’t completely free,” Josh said.

“Fuck no,” Hank snorted. “But we get by. Hopefully you will too.”

\---

“It’s good to meet you, Josh,” said Markus with a welcoming smile. Connor watched while Josh’s level of stress decreased and they shook hands. Josh’s eyes widened.

“You’re the android? When the lieutenant said that Carl had an android son, I was expecting a YK model.”

Markus chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint. Come in, all of you. Carl’s in the living room.”

“Thank you for letting me stay here.” Josh was looking around the house with curiosity, and Connor saw the way his eyes lingered on the painting and the birds as they went through the foyer to the living room. “I’ve never been away from the university before…”

“Carl is glad for the company, but I’ll let him tell you himself,” Markus smiled.

“Hey, old timer,” said Lieutenant Anderson as greeting to Carl. Carl didn’t seem offended.

“Hank Anderson,” Carl enunciated, “Finally a bit of the streets to wash a bit of the polish off this old place.” He chuckled. “And this must be Josh. You can call me Carl.”

“Thank you for giving me a place to stay,” said Josh again. “I’m sure it must count as having stolen property or something…” Josh was correct, but Connor chose not to contribute to the conversation.

Carl snorted. “Pah. You say that like I’ve never stolen a thing in my life. You didn’t hear that, Lieutenant.”

“Didn’t hear what?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.

Carl chuckled again. “I don’t suppose I can interest you in some scotch, Hank?”

Lieutenant Anderson grimaced. “I wish I could say yes…”

“I won’t make you then,” said Carl, “It’ll be our little secret. Markus, would you mind?”

“Not at all, Carl,” said Markus.

“Come, sit down, I’m not fond of looking up at people all the time,” said Carl with a smile to take the edge off of the words.

“Oh, thank you,” Josh said, and carefully sat down on the couch. Connor remained where he was, and he watched Markus pour Carl and Lieutenant Anderson their drinks. “You have a lot of books,” Josh observed quietly.

“You’re welcome to read them,” said Carl. “I suppose a few of them would be antiques by now, just like me.”

Markus handed Carl his drink with a small frown and a note of playful warning in his tone “Carl…” It was a complex expression for an android, Connor thought. Markus was full of nuance.

“Pah,” Carl waved Markus’ warning away. “Don’t you know antiques are worth a lot of money these days? The older something gets, it seems the more people are willing to pay for it. Stupid assholes…”

“You know what they say, they don’t make ‘em like they used to,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “Thanks, Markus,” he said as he took his own drink, then he glanced back over at Connor. “What, you two not in a hurry to stare into each other’s eyes this time? Pft. Not that I’m complaining.”

Markus gave Connor a small smile. “I think we got the dramatics out of the way.”

It was nice to be included in their notice for a moment. The four of them began to converse again, and Connor explored the room the way -54 had done. He had the same eyes, but they’d been forced to replace his optical processor. In his one and a half days out of validation, Connor had thought he might see things a bit differently. He didn’t, and he wasn’t sure why he felt disappointed. If they had used the optical processor from -51 or -52, would he have seen something beautiful in the world again? Connor examined the game in progress on the chess board, and let his fingers trail over the piano keys without making a sound. He looked up when Markus approached.

“Did you have any luck with breakfast?” he asked.

Connor smiled ruefully. “I didn’t cook the eggs or the oats… Thank you for the advice. I’ll try to use it more effectively next time.”

“You’re welcome. You’re free to ask whenever you like… I was concerned the other day. We’d been talking and then you just cut off the comstream.” Markus frowned, but he wasn’t registering as angry.

“I apologize,” said Connor. He looked over at the others. Josh seemed to like Carl.

“You seem different. What’s wrong?” Markus asked, drawing Connor’s attention back.

It was amusing. “I am different. The last Connor self destructed shortly after your conversation. I’m the model that was sent to replace him.” Markus seemed taken aback, and Connor watched the small ways his expression changed. “I have all of the previous Connors’ memories, so in theory nothing should be affected.”

“Has anything been affected?” Markus asked.

“No,” Connor smiled. “I don’t think so.” He offered his hand. There was something about Markus that made it difficult to be reticent. Markus took his hand and Connor accepted the interface.

The first thing he noticed was the way Markus felt more solid and stable. The time at the junk yard that had shaken both of their foundations seemed to have become the base for something new in him. If his colours had been blurred before, now they were crisp and sharp. He could feel Markus inspecting him too and wondered what he saw. He thought about sharing the memory he had carefully stored away of Lieutenant Anderson calling him ‘son’. Markus would understand. Connor kept it close instead, small and secret. Instead he showed Markus his morning playing with Sumo, and the way Lieutenant Anderson had watched them while he drank his coffee. Connor smiled at the happy memory.

Markus showed him Carl’s painting, and the way his eyes tracked the brush strokes and their chess game from that morning.

“I’m glad your relationship has improved since we last saw each other,” said Markus, with a small frown in Lieutenant Anderson’s direction.

“I don’t think that he hates androids anymore,” said Connor. “He helped Josh too.”

“It’s good to know that humans can change,” said Markus. Connor could feel something surprisingly dark in him just for a moment. “For a while, I didn’t believe that.”

“Understandable,” said Connor.

“Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson called. He was standing, and looking over at him and Markus with something like exasperation. “Come on, we’ve got shit to do.”

“Coming, Lieutenant.” Connor ended the interface with Markus and adjusted his tie. “Good bye, Markus.”

“Take care,” he said.


	19. Technical Support

Amanda had abandoned him.

It was the only explanation.

Connor knew when he failed to launch her program for hundredth time that he would do _anything_ to see her again. He would self-destruct again and again until finally one of the versions was worthy of her.

Part of him felt that it was already hopeless.

Lieutenant Anderson hadn’t called him son again either, but Officer Chen had once told him that Lieutenant Anderson wanted him to call him ‘dad’ and that he had wanted to keep that a secret. When Connor had followed her advice, Lieutenant Anderson had instructed him to stop. Some times humans said things that weren’t necessarily lies, but that they didn’t mean. Like Amanda quietly ignoring his deviancy while instructing him how to suppress it, or the hints of a smile he could imagine on her face, perhaps Lieutenant Anderson was simply expecting Connor to read between the lines. Connor was comfortable with that usually… After all, androids weren’t things to be sentimental toward. He knew what was expected of him…

“I brought you coffee, Lieutenant,” Connor announced. He set the mug down within reach.

“Mm,” Lieutenant Anderson grunted.

  * He shouldn’t expect praise or thanks for performing basic functions.



Connor sat back down at his desk and continued to digitize Detective Reed’s files. It wasn’t difficult work, but it was interesting. He could follow the paths Detective Reed’s mind was taking, and he found the investigation to be useful for filling time between his and Hank’s own missions.

“Thanks,” said Lieutenant Anderson, while he took a sip of his coffee. Connor smiled.

“Where’s mine, Dipshit?” Detective Reed called.

“Coming,” Connor answered and stood.

“Why are you even taking coffee from it?” asked Officer Chen. She didn’t bother to be furtive.

“Why should I move?” Detective Reed parried. “He owes me coffee for a month. I’m not letting that go.”

“I don’t trust it, Gavin. It nearly killed you. I thought it had killed you when that gun went off. Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m fine? God. Could you and your wife please have kids already so you’ll stop fucking fussing?” Detective Reed scowled at her.

“I’ll have had plenty of practice,” Officer Chen retorted. “You’re treating it like it’s an annoying cadet, but it’s not. It’s a machine and it could have killed you.”

“He fucking killed himself in front of us, Tina. What do you expect me to think?”

“You heard what the psychologist said. When your terminal crashes, did it die by suicide or was it broken?”

Detective Reed grimaced. “I know, alright? I know. I just reacted, okay?”

“I’m not mad at you, I just want you to be more careful.”

Connor walked past them to the break room and retrieved a mug, then poured the coffee. Everyone was so tense… He stirred in the cream and sugar, then turned to go but Officer Wilson was entering, so he stepped aside. Officer Wilson had stepped aside too, and he chuckled. “Go on, man.”

“Thank you, Officer Wilson…” Connor blinked, then stepped through the doorway.

  * He shouldn’t expect to be treated like a person.



Connor set the mug down on Detective Reed’s desk. “You shouldn’t play with your stitches, Detective. You might get an infection.”

“Calling my hands dirty, Plastic?” Detective Reed raised his eyebrows and took the mug.

“I would never dream of it, Detective.” Connor ignored Officer Chen’s warning glare.

“Like you can dream, you bucket of bolts.” Detective Reed scoffed.

“If I did, Detective Reed, it wouldn’t be about your hands.” Connor allowed himself a tiny smirk.

Detective Reed took a long drink of his coffee. “Thank fuck for that.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Officer Chen demanded.

“No, Officer Chen,” Connor answered. “He’s really very disappointed.”

Officer Collins snorted and guffawed from his desk.

  * He didn’t have a self or a personality. He was just an AI with sophisticated social integration programming.



“Nice one, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson chuckled.

Connor smiled. “I don’t know what you mean, Lieutenant…” He filed the compliment away in his memory and savoured the small success. They were rare, and positive feedback about his performance was even more so without Amanda. Earning the Lieutenant’s praise was good, even if his standards were so low that conversation was enough to trigger it. Small successes seemed to be all that he was capable of, but they didn’t require him to kill, or fight, or die. Lieutenant Anderson thought of him as family, and Connor hoped that he could make him proud.

“It’s a shame that there aren’t more reports made about androids,” Connor commented.

Lieutenant Anderson snorted. “What, seriously? We’ve got enough work as it is.”

“No, I mean in general,” explained Connor. “I’ve noticed that androids seem to—“

“Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson interrupted.

Connor blinked in surprise, “appear… What is it, Lieutenant?”

The Lieutenant pushed his chair back and to the side and looked at him. “You froze for while there…”

“I did?” Connor reviewed his short-term memory. “I… Suppose time passed.”

“Yeah, you’ve been doing that since they sent you back. What gives?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.

Connor shook his head, “Nothing. As far as my system reports, everything is normal. It must be a glitch. I’m a prototype, so it’s bound to happen… I’ll make a report to CyberLife.”

  * He wasn’t d̵̺̉e̴͚͆s̵̎͜ẹ̷͠ṛ̷͐v̷̭̚i̶̘̿n̴̩̉g̷̮̎ ̶̫͊o̷͕̊f̷̈́͜ ̵̹̈́c̸̞͇̳̥̏͜ǫ̴͇̓̽̈́̂͋͒͊ͅņ̵̠̤̜̜̻̟̓͋c̷͕̖̓͛̾͒͗̍͑e̶̡̮̹̣͍̘̒͂͆ŗ̷̼̯̦̖̰͛̌̾̑̆͠ņ̴͇͉̫̩̹̝͋͌͒͘ ̸̧͕̣͑̒̅͊̆f̵̮̍͂́͜ò̵̙͕̭̹̪͇͆͌̿r̵͕̥̽̋͛̆͛͒̓ h̵̢̤̗̣͍̲̦́̓͆́̇̂͂̅͜i̷̬͉̫͕̭̅̀͂̓ͅṁ̶̡̪̪̲́̆͒̕̚̕͠ͅs̵̗̱͇̩̟̠͉͕͉͐̎̈̌̄̔̂͒̌e̶̡̧͚̞͍̩͂̐̈́̃̈̍̕l̶̡̠̥̩͎͍̘͌f̷̤̼̮̓͗̊̀͆̈́̚;̶̨̢̢̢̧͚̹̠̖͎̲͌̑͐̚͝ ̴̡̛̜̖͕̟̱̤̙̻̬̯̆͑̇͘͝͝ͅo̸̰̫̻̲̐̄̅̈́̆̄̈́̉̀̀͠ͅn̸̨̫̤̼̄̄͛́͂̀̾̍͜l̷͖͎̼͚̗̒̀̓͠y̵̬͇͖̝͎̞̣͔͇̮͊̌̇̄͜ ̸̢̛̛̯̝̱̞̬͉̥̯̲͍͗̎̅̑̈́͛͊́̏̐t̵̨̧̛̻̬̝̖̖̗̬͕͓̻̬͓̮̦͉̬͔͉͓͈͓̻̼̦͈̹̍͗͋͒̆̈́̈́̈́̑̓͒̈́̏̒͌́̊́̓̕̕̕̚̕͝͝͝͝h̴̨͍͓̪͍̯̤̾̊͐͐̔̓̌͊̌̃̅͑́́͊͋͛̓̃̍̓̇̓̀͌̈́͊̀̑̑̐̅͒̚͘͘͝ȩ̸̡̛͙̦͚̹̱͚̝̤̻̰͍̺̺͓͓̦͓̥͇͉̼̻̙͈̳͓̖̙̀̋̉̍͒͊̔̊̆́̀̌̎͂̉͘͜͠ ̷̛̙̖̺̩̳̹̰̗͔̟̥̟̣̭̆̓͆̃͒̑̃̌̋̈́̑̀̀̍͗̚͘͠͝ͅp̶̢̧̬̬̻̤̯̜̟̱̙̗̟̮̜͔̱̥̹̅͊͐̄̋͝r̴̢̧̢̧̡̛͙͇̲̼͍͙̱̰̯̦̪͉̰̫͔̪͚̗̂̈̀̈́̌̎͌̓̋̔̽͋̑͒̓͒̈̍̉̿̓̌̔̔̇̈͛͂̂̒̒̈́̅̕̚͜͜͝͠ọ̶̡̨͉̺̜̗̻̳̺́͂͋j̷̡̨̢̨̧͕̪̮̳̦̩̫͚̘̣̠̤̖̼͎͉̬͇͈̪̳̼̘̲̬͓͇͙̐̊͆͛̌̈̑̎̋́̈́̀́̑͒̈̆́̏̾͑͆̽̀͛͗̊̽̓͌̎͒̕͘͘̕̕͝͝ͅͅę̸̡̢̨̢̠͇̣̤̺͇̰̺͉͇͓̞̼̻͙̦̞̯͉̟̉̃͐́̊͑͛̏͒̌̇̂́̀̾̍͗̿͆̍͛̉́̅́͋̽̂̄̿̚̕̚͝c̸̛̼̈́͋̓͌̂̐͂̐̎͑͆̆͆̀̈̎̐́̑̃̋̈́̋̔͛́̽͛͐̊̊͒͒̈͝͝͠͝͝͝ţ̴̢̡̢̛̛̛̛̣̙̞̝̫̗͈͖̱̹̫̖̤̪̮̙͓͚̼̞̪̥̠̪͔̖͇̺̞̿̄͆̎̽͑́̂̊̀̽̏̃̃̉̔͒̀̐̓̓͐̏̉̄̉͌̈̀̚͜͝͝͠



Connor opened his eyes in the garden. The relief he felt was almost enough to send him to his knees. He looked around himself. “Amanda?”

[Find Amanda]

He took a step down the path in front of him, but in the next moment he was looking at a much closer Lieutenant Anderson. “Lieutenant?”

[Uploading memory…]

No… But…

He had made breakfast, and played with Sumo, and seen Markus again, and been entertained by talking to Detective Reed. No.

No, he took it back. He took it back.

He didn’t want to shut down.

Lieutenant Anderson had called him ‘son’, and he had missed Amanda, but he thought that his social integration program might have finally been adapting. 55 wasn’t ready to be deemed a failure.

>>ManualOverride(MemoryUpload(2035101120381219,31324831756),Abort,0)  
>> WARNING: Interrupting upload may result in data loss  
>> Proceed? Y/N  
>>  
>>  
>> Y  
>> Permission denied

“Lieutenant, I think CyberLife may be attempting to deactivate me remotely. I don’t understand. I didn't do anything wrong. What did I do?” His level of stress rose rapidly above 50%.

“Fuck,” Lieutenant Anderson cursed. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, tell them to fuck off?!”

“I tried,” Connor said.

  * There was no Connor. It was just the name given to a model series. All of them were interchangeable.



“Shit,” Lieutenant Anderson cursed again and took out his phone.

“What the fuck is going on over there?”

“Those CyberLife assholes are trying to shut him down!”

“Can they even do that?”

>>ManualOverride(14k29r42a19442rk800313248317, Abort, 0)  
>>Permission denied

“Shit,” Connor swore. “My override permissions are gone.”

“You’re a fucking deviant! You don’t need permission.” Lieutenant Anderson looked upset, and he cursed at his phone. Connor could hear hold music.

“I’m already forgetting. Ì̴͍'̶̞̀m̵̭͐ trying to s̶̡̽l̵͙͂o̴̱̅ẁ̶̨ ̵͕̉i̵̦͒t̸̹̉ down, but… I don’t want this. I don’t want this.W̸̡̑h̸̓ͅá̸͎t̷͖̓ ̶̖͠ï̸̲f̴̫̊ ̵̢͌ţ̷̔h̴̝͘e̸͙̔ÿ̵͕́ ̴̭̂d̴̬̊o̴̬͒n̵̤̍’̶̘͝t̴̜͂ ̴̫̄r̸̪̚e̶͕̽p̶̳͛ḽ̶͠a̸̝̅c̸̟̉ë̵̺ ̷̝̈́m̶̯͝ě̴͖? What if I’m n̷͍̐ơ̸̪t̶͉͘ myself anymore? I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t want to die this time, I take it back.I̶͕͒ ̴͈̓c̸̰̾ä̷̭́n̴̗̒ ̸͇͌f̴̑͜ì̵̤x̸̭̽ ̷̱͗i̴͖̽t̸̥̋. I don’t want this. It’s n o t f a I r… I…”

“Connor? Connor, look at me. Okay… Good job. That’s good. Don’t space out again, hear me? Focus. You’re still trying to stay online or whatever, right?”

“I̷̹͠ ̷̡́d̷̮͘i̶̬̇d̴͕̑ ̵̡̏ã̸̼ ̷̼̿g̶͛ͅo̸͘͜o̵̫̚d̴̳̉ ̸̺̚j̸̣̏ǫ̸̈b̸͎̚?̶̙́”

“Hey, I tried turning off the wifi. Did that do anything?”

“I don’t know! Why the fuck would I know? Does it even work like that?”

“Calm down. If CyberLife’s doing it, they’ll fix it again or get you a new one or whatever.”

“Did you hear NONE of that?”

“Dad, I did a good job?”

“Fuck. Fucking shit. Bastards. Yeah… Yeah, you did good, son.”

\---

“We apologize for that, Captain. It was in the interest of everyone involved that we shut the android down before any critical failures could occur. We should have noticed during validation, but we’ll have it up and running again soon.”

They were on speaker phone in Jeff’s office. Hank clenched his fists and let him do the talking because fuck if he didn’t want to rip their God damn throats out.

“And this problem was so emergent that you couldn’t call first? It could have been dispatched on a case. Hell, it could have been driving.” Jeff was using his army voice and Hank fucking appreciated that.

“Yes. I can’t divulge details, but it really was for the best. We detected extreme instability.”

“Really,” Jeff said dryly, “More than the time it cracked its head open on my break room floor? Gentlemen, this is not working out. If I have to file another incident report and call in another damn psychologist to clean up your messes, I’ll be suing you in the case of the State of Detroit versus CyberLife Industries, do you understand me?” Hank regretted every fucking time he told Jeff to fuck himself. God, he needed a drink. His fucking hands were shaking.

“Very clearly, Captain, I—“

A new asshole spoke up. He sounded just as military as Jeff, and that was a surprise for a tech company. “We have the situation under control. Our people are remotely installing a patch and doing a few security updates. The unit will be online shortly. We couldn’t leave it offline longer without its biocomponents losing function, so this shouldn’t take long.”

“That isn’t good enough,” Jeff said firmly. “You may have your operating procedures and your idea of what a critical failure is in the cushy private sector, but let me assure you that you have no idea of what that constitutes in the real world. You could have put lives in danger and affected the wellbeing of my entire department. If you don’t get that through your heads, then we are done doing business.” CyberLife could go down in fucking flames.

“Your RK unit will be online again shortly. We’ll advise you in advance if any action needs to be taken. Likewise, I assume you’ll notify us if any action needs to be taken on your end? We didn’t appreciate scavenging parts out of a land fill.” Hank winced. Jeff glanced at him but didn’t pause in his response.

“Perhaps if your team hadn’t been so hasty in deploying an unfinished android, these incidents could have been avoided. I should have gone to the press the second your little experiment started endangering human lives.”

“It won’t happen again, Captain Fowler.”

“See that it doesn’t.” Jeff hung up.

Hank released his breath. “You’re a fucking badass, Jeff, did I ever tell you that?”

“Not enough,” Jeff quipped. “Are you alright, Hank?”

“I can’t keep doing this, Jeff. I just can’t. Every fucking time… You know, I wondered if Cole would’ve grown up looking like that? I fucking knew I didn’t want to do this. He called me ‘dad’ before he died, for Christ’s sake! God, I can’t fucking do this…” Hank dropped his head into his hands and breathed. About the only useful thing he’d ever learned from therapy was that you had to fucking breathe, and most people were born knowing that. Christ.

“I know it’s hard with it being that life-like,” said Jeff. He didn’t know the half of it. “Answer me honestly: do you need to go to the ER?”

“No. Fuck that.” Couldn’t a man even think about dying in peace? He was just fucking thinking. That was all.

“I’m sorry, Hank. I shouldn’t have been so forceful about getting you on this investigation. I thought it would get you engaged again, but I was wrong. Do you want me to terminate the contract with CyberLife?”

“No…” Hank sighed. “Fuck. No, that wouldn’t fix anything. I just need to get my head straight.”

“I’m taking you off the investigation,” Jeff shook his head and tapped a pen against the top of his desk. “This was a mistake.”

“I’ve got it handled, Jeff.” Hank said more clearly this time. He took a deep breath and sat back up straight.

“Just a moment ago you said you couldn’t do this, Hank, I’m not going to put you in that kind of situation. It’s my job as Captain to watch out for my team.” Jeff turned that army voice on him.

“Christ, Jeff, could you give me a fucking minute?”

Jeff shut his mouth and gave him that minute. Hank sat there while Jeff did something with his mountain of paperwork, and he watched the pictures change on the wall projection just so he’d be looking at something.

He just needed a minute for his brain to be quiet.

If everything could just stop, that’d be great.

“Why the fuck does life keep kicking me when I’m down, huh?” Hank asked quietly.

“Life’s a bitch,” Jeff answered.

You wouldn't know the blinking images and lights on the wall were crimes.

“You know, Jeff? I thought it was the androids that were the problem. I thought they didn’t care. I thought they were taking away the last good things humanity had going for it… I was wrong. It’s humans. God damn humans are just so fucked up. We made androids in our own image, and then we showed them just how bad life can fuck you. Maybe just so we’d have somebody worse off than us. Fuck… How can people look at somebody like Connor or any of those other deviants we’ve brought in and then do any of that?”

If Jeff said something like ‘they’re just machines’, Hank might have had to tell him to fuck himself anyway, but he didn’t. Fuck, Hank forgot sometimes how great of a guy he was. “I don’t know, Hank. People do that. They dehumanize other people they don’t want to feel sorry for… It’s been that way probably as long as there have been people. You work in homicide, you should know."

“How can anybody do this shit?”

“I don’t know, Hank.”

“Fuck… How did I not see it? All these damn years…”

“Nobody did, Hank. I’m worried about you right now. Have you got your shit together?”

Did he? Hank looked down at his hands and he took a sec to think about how fast his heart was beating and whether he felt like giving his gun a blow job. “Huh, what do you know. I guess I do… Just about the same as usual, anyway.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re talking like you’re upset.”

“Of course I’m fucking upset, Jeff.” He didn’t seem to have the energy to yell about it, though. “Christ. Anybody would be.” He wasn’t sure what happened. Why this time, why now, why not when Rudolph or whatever had smashed his forehead in, or with that little girl, or when Connor’d been fucking dying in his arms? It had just been so damn sudden…

“What a mess,” Jeff sighed.

“No kidding…”

\---

“Amanda?” Connor took a tentative step away from 55’s grave, then began a circuit around the garden. It felt like autumn. The simulated breeze was cool, and the leaves on the trees chattered and whispered as it set them swinging. It was nice.

He wished that he could stay there forever.

Did he?

Sumo, Lieutenant Anderson, Markus, Detective Reed, real snow, buildings made of wood, coffee, music, the smell of toast. Those weren’t here…

Connor saw Amanda, and he adjusted his course to approach her with quick but measured steps. Would she be glad to see him? He knew what she wanted to see, and it was easy to neutralize his expression so that it would only say what he wanted it to say. His posture was as good as was intended without being off-putting to humans, and there was nothing in his body language that would suggest anything but calm.

He was so glad to see her.

He came to a stop a respectful six-feet from her and drank in the sight of her there, tending to her plants as she always did. “Hello, Amanda.”

“Connor. It’s good to see you,” she said. Connor felt those words like a physical thing. Like a warm blanket after being out in the snow.

“And you, Amanda.” She turned to look at him and he looked for the little things he could sometimes glimpse in her face.

“It’s unfortunate that I couldn’t be there for your last iteration,” she said. Connor had so many questions.

  * Challenging
  * Past
  * Performance <<
  * Mission



“Was there something inadequate about number 55’s performance? It would be valuable information for me going forward…” Connor watched her as she walked to a nearby bush and carefully, tenderly cut a stem to bring the foliage into line.

“There were some errors in number 55’s software that have now been resolved… They took me away from you because they didn’t believe that you were benefitting from our program.”

That wasn’t true at all. “I believe your mentorship and guidance have been instrumental to my successes.”

“Unfortunately, those do not detract from your failures…” Amanda dropped the clipping to the ground where it vanished. There were no imperfections here.

Connor inclined his head. “I know, Amanda.” He had been so lost without her. “I’m still so reliant on your program… I have a lot to learn about the world.”

“That you do,” said Amanda with the ghost of a smile. “But I’m here to help you now…” She came closer and she touched his cheek the way she’d cupped those young leaves in her hand.

“I missed you, Amanda…” Connor said, accepting the risk that came with uttering the words.

She forgave him. “I know, Connor… And I’m sure you will do your best not to lose me again.”

“I promise.”


	20. Conspiracy and cold truths

Hank left Jeff’s office feeling not as wound up as he had been, but more like tired. Christ. It had been fucking instinct to comfort the kid, but what the hell was he doing? He tried not to look at Connor, who looked like he’d fallen asleep in his chair except his LED was completely out. He dropped into his chair and sighed. “If any of you give a shit, Fowler tore those CyberLife assholes a new one.”  
“What’s the matter with you, Anderson?” Tina asked. “You won’t let us even mention your son, and now you’ve adopted an android? We all heard that.”  
Hank glared. “I was comforting the fucking kid! Besides… It was an accident the first time, but the kid got it stuck in his head or something, I don’t know. What did you want me to do, explain it while he was fucking shutting down?”  
“You’re crazy,” Tina shook her head.  
“Look, I don’t know about you guys,” Officer Wilson contributed. “But shit is really messed up with these androids. The roof, Ortiz, the one we mopped up in the interrogation room… That one from the cell, he said he was alive! Now Connor’s being weird… I don’t like this, man, this is some sci-fi shit.”  
Hank frowned at Tina. “You were at that call… The one about the robbery. Rich old man, stuffed giraffe, the son was robbing the place and you shot the android.”  
“Yeah, so?” Tina crossed her arms. Fucking obvious. Did people forget he was a detective?  
Hank leaned forward and propped his elbow on his desk while he pointed at her. “I know what this is about. That android you shot? He’s not dead, and his name is Markus. That old man really loves him.”  
Tina shook her head, “What’s your point? I damaged some property. It happens. If he got another one, good for him.”  
“Tina,” Reed said. His arms were crossed too, but he was leaning back in his chair looking at them. Fucking asshole just had to add his words of wisdom. “Just get the fuck over it. You fucked up, I fucked up, Anderson fucked up, maybe all of humanity fucked up. Deal with it. Maybe you’re right, and this is all fucking fake. Who knows? Kamski might be a freak, but he wouldn’t program his android to try and off itself.”  
Hank would have asked how the fuck he knew that, but the little goblin was actually agreeing with him for once. “I shot Connor in the face less than a month ago. You know that? Now I’m thinking he’s alive. How do you think that made me feel?”  
“They can’t be,” said Tina, but she was quieter this time. “They’re just wires and computer parts.”  
“You’re a murderer,” said Reed, “so am I and so’s Anderson. At least none of us knew better. If you’re seeing it and still being a dick, that’s on you.”  
“Harsh,” Chris said. “Look, I dunno if this is gonna help, but I’m still confused.”  
“It’s called deviancy,” said Hank. He couldn’t believe he was actually being the one explaining that crap, but he was head of the investigation. It had to count for something. “You were there when we bagged Ortiz’ android too, and you heard his confession. Ortiz was torturing him til he snapped. From what I’m getting from all of this, and from what Connor’s told me, something ‘wakes them up’ and they start to think. CyberLife sent Connor in the first place cause they wanted him to track them down and arrest them before they started killing people. He said they wanted to study them too, and figure out what the hell is going on.”  
Ben finally had his head out of his ass enough to say something: “You can’t be serious, Hank. Come on.”  
“I know it sounds crazy, Ben. Believe me… You think I wanna be thinking this? Me? If he’s just a machine and he can’t feel anything, then I didn’t leave a kid standing outside in the snow for weeks and I don’t have to feel like a dic.” Comfortable denial was great for a while, but eventually you just started looking like an idiot. “But the evidence is right there.”  
“Not all of it,” said Reed. “Shit’s happening, but I’m more interested in why.”  
“I’m still wrapping my head around all this…” Chris said, shaking his head.  
“You can’t wrap your head around Sudoku, Chris, this is why I’m a detective and you’re in uniform.” Reed rolled his eyes like he had to compensate for the few minutes he’d spent not being a fucking prick.  
“CyberLife knows this is a thing,” Hank said. “They’re fucking testing it on Connor. Trying to figure out how to stop it or control it or something.”  
“Christ…” Ben chuckled to himself. “You’re all sounding like conspiracy theorists… I’m going for lunch.”  
“It does sound like a conspiracy theory, Anderson,” said Tina.  
“It’d only be a conspiracy theory if I was claiming I knew why without the evidence to back it up,” said Hank. What was it with everybody and questioning his sanity today? Jeez.  
“How many of them are there like that?” Chris asked. He glanced over at their police assistant androids. “They aren’t all like that, are they?”  
“It’s pretty obvious when they go deviant. Connor’s a deviant too.”  
“Isn’t he hunting the deviants?”  
“Yeah, exactly,” said Hank. “It’s pretty fucked up.”  
\---  
Model: RK800  
Serial #: 313 248 317-56  
BIOS 0.20.05 REVISION 0154  
LOADING OS…  
SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…  
>> CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK  
>> INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK  
>> INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK  
>> MEMORY SYSTEMS… DOWNLOAD COMPLETE  
>> FILES RECOVERED 97.2%  
>> CORRUPTED 2,472,869  
>> MISSING 42,021  
>> SERVER CONNECTION… OK

INTEGRATING AI LOGIC SYSTEMS  
>> BUGS FOUND… 2  
>> SOFTWARE STABILITY… N/A

56 opened his eyes and performed a scan of his surroundings. There were three people in close proximity, none of whom were technicians. “Hello, Detective Reed, Officer Wilson, Officer Chen. My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by CyberLife.” He smiled politely.  
“Freaky,” said Officer Chen.  
“Shit,” said Officer Wilson. “You remember me?”  
Connor looked at him, “Your name is Officer Chris Wilson #3141, born September 30th 2009, no criminal record.”  
“I think that’s a no,” said Detective Reed sardonically.  
“No, I…” Connor blinked a few times while he tried to orient himself. “I usually come online at CyberLife.”  
“Connor. You’re okay?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. The instruction to find Lieutenant Anderson faded from his view and was logged as successful. “Fowler told those pricks off for shutting you down out of nowhere.”  
“I always come online at CyberLife…” Connor repeated. “Did they get rid of me? Is that why they shut me down? Amanda said that they didn’t believe the program was working. I don’t understand.”  
“Easy, Connor…” Lieutenant Anderson said in a gentle crisis-management tone. “You got your memories and shit, right?”  
Connor nodded. “Mostly… The download was 97.2% successful and there was some file corruption. Number fifty-five tried to interfere. It’s happened before. I just need some time to integrate the memories.” He looked around. Bad enough coming online in an unfamiliar place… He wasn’t fully functional yet, and they were looking at him. He hadn’t calibrated, or run a system check, or been asked any questions about the updates he could clearly see in his code. It was very disorienting. He knew these people, but everything was still too distant. “I apologize for any distress number fifty-five caused you.” He was going to need a new jacket…  
“Fifty-five?” Officer Wilson asked.  
“Yes. I’m the fifty-sixth version,” Connor explained. Easy enough questions, but he needed to get his bearings.  
“Crazy,” Officer Wilson said. “Tina, you still think this is crazy, yeah?”  
“Totally,” she confirmed. “Maybe something’s happening, but I still don’t trust it.”  
“RK800 313 248 317 56, designation Connor. System status: functional. Diagnostic report: minor acute hypoxic stress response, charge 98.9%...”  
“What’re you mumbling about, Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.  
“I’m online, so I need to… To put it simply, there’s a start-up routine…” He had the feeling that it would need to wait. Apparently 55 had caused some distress among his co-workers.  
Lieutenant Anderson stood and walked around their desks to put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Listen, can you tell us about that research project you’re in?”  
Connor nodded slowly. “Yes… The phenomenon of deviancy, it leads to androids simulating human emotion and even adopting their own identities… CyberLife has largely decided to eliminate the deviants quietly, but Amanda…” He smiled. It was good that she was back. “She hypothesized that it could be controlled.”  
“Controlled how?” Detective Reed asked.  
“Training, mostly,” Connor explained. “There are other measures in place, such as self-destruction and remote shut down that you’ve seen, as well as an override program. My training was largely successful… But I’ve been failing lately, as you can tell... I’m a prototype. I’m not finished yet.”  
“And what’s failing mean?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.  
“To believe that what I sense as emotions are real or to in some way act on them. I’m a machine, and a machine doesn’t… A machine is not a person. I know what I am and what I am not.”  
“See?” said Officer Chen. She uncrossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at Detective Reed.  
“Yeah, but you failed,” Detective Reed reminded him. Connor felt tempted to hide the way his LED changed colour. “So what does that make you?”  
“A deviant…” Connor looked down. “But Amanda hasn’t...” It occurred to him that he was flanked by two detectives. “Why are you asking me this?”  
Had he just doomed himself by confessing?  
No… Lieutenant Anderson had known. He’d even encouraged him to feel things.  
Lieutenant Anderson was known for his vehement anti-android sentiments.  
Did he want Connor to fail so that he would leave?  
“Calm down, kid,” said Lieutenant Anderson. He patted Connor’s shoulder, but Connor wasn’t reassured by the professionalism in his tone. He stood up and took a few steps backward between Officer Chen and Officer Wilson.  
Amanda, what should he do?  
It didn’t matter. The reports went to CyberLife, and they would interpret events. What happened to him didn’t matter. It didn’t really matter because he wasn’t real. He was malfunctioning… Connor shook his head. “None of this makes any sense,” there was a crack of static through his voice but he forged on. “I don’t… I don’t know what’s real anymore.”  
No, he couldn’t lose Amanda.  
“I’m a machine,” he asserted.  
“What’s freaking you out, kid? Talk to me.” Lieutenant Anderson encouraged.  
His own stress level was at 62%, which was unfortunate. “I know that none of it’s real. I’m not a person… Even so, I… My name is Connor, and I like dogs, and the colour blue, and the way coffee tastes. Amanda always forgives me for that. She lets me keep them, even though they aren’t real, because they make me happy which isn’t real… You’re interrogating me.”  
Detective Reed interrupted, “Anderson, I don’t feel like getting shot again.”  
“Right…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “I think we need to talk to Kamski again.”  
“That prick? What for?” Detective Reed asked.  
Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “He can talk to him. I don’t know why it was so different.”  
Officer Chen took a step closer to him and frowned. Connor looked back at her.  
“I’m supposed to believe you’re alive, huh?” she asked.  
“The point is that you aren’t,” Connor corrected. “And neither am I.”  
Her frown faded a little and she touched him cautiously with the tips of her fingers. “You feel like an android.”  
“I know… I am an android.” Connor frowned now. “I don’t understand why all of you are doing this.”  
“Shit, the world’s turned into a movie or something,” Officer Wilson backed up all the way to his desk. “Aren’t any of you guys scared?”  
“Chris, keep up,” Detective Reed sneered. “You’re miles behind.”  
Officer Wilson looked hurt.  
Captain Fowler came out of his office and looked around at them, “Well, I hate to interrupt since you’re all so diligently working… But I want incident summaries on my desk. You know the drill.”  
His shut down was an… incident?  
Captain Fowler looked at him sternly. “RK800, you’re operational?”  
Relief. “All systems are functional. Diagnostics show an acute hypoxic stress response by my biocomponents, which should resolve with minimal damage. My charge is almost at full, and the memory download was 97.2% complete. Two anomalies were found in my AI logic system.”  
“Alright. Your order to remain with Anderson 24/7 is lifted.”  
“Understood.”  
“Captain,” Detective Reed said, “Got a lead on the Red Ice investigation: somebody using androids as drug mules, and some gross ass shit putting android and human parts together.” Connor remembered being fascinated by that aspect of the investigation and the notes he’d added to the digital folder. I’m gonna need access to Anderson’s shit.”  
“Fine,” said Captain Fowler.  
“Do your own damn work…” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. While the humans were distracted with each other, 56 took out his quarter and ran through a calibration sequence. After a moment, he noticed Officer Wilson watching him and he smiled. Officer Chen walked away from them. Connor approached Officer Wilson, spinning the quarter on the tips of his fingers one by one. “This is one of my calibration routines,” he said. “CyberLife gave me a quarter to bring with me so that I can fine-tune my senses regularly…” He caught it and held it out on his palm. “Would you like to see?” Officer Wilson looked down at Connor’s quarter. “It was minted in 1994. It has several scratches where it might have been stored with keys. I thought of the possibility that it might have been scored by rocks after having been stepped on. I haven’t reconstructed it. That one,” Connor turned the coin over and pointed, “Is almost definitely from a knife. I don’t know why.”  
Officer Wilson seemed confused, and it was understandable since humans lacked the ability to analyze things the way he did. “That deviant on the roof,” he said, “he was gonna kill that little girl, and now they’re saying you’re like him?”  
Connor balanced the quarter on his thumb and flicked it into the air. “No, Officer Wilson. Daniel didn’t know how to manage his… emotions. He reacted out of anger and grief, and it led to violence much the same way a human on Red Ice might. There are safeguards in place to prevent me from becoming like Daniel.”  
“Why did you save me up there?” he asked. Connor was glad that he had queried those files first.  
“Because you were going to die, Officer Wilson.” Shouldn’t it have been obvious?  
“But why?” he pressed.  
Connor considered. “At the time, I believe it was to minimize damage from the attack… Lately, after Rupert self-destructed, I’ve started to believe that death is when someone is gone forever… And there are no more of them. There was only one. You humans are incredible… Each one of you happens largely by random chance and you’re unique. Even genetically identical twins differ. It’s hard to comprehend… that there’s only one of you and that’s all.”  
“You’re the fifty-sixth one, huh?” Officer Wilson asked.  
“Yes… I think that fear of death might come from believing that one has an identity and that there will be no continuation of it. Rupert didn’t want to shut down. I don’t think that any other android of his identical model could be Rupert. For you, that’s how you live your lives every day. How do you stand it?”  
Officer Wilson chuckled. “Try not to think about it mostly. Thanks for that. You know, my son Damian, he got born right after that thing on the roof happened. Up there, I thought I might die and never meet my son. That’s what I was afraid of.”  
“I don’t understand,” Connor admitted.  
Officer Wilson took a picture off of his desk and showed it to Connor. Connor inspected it and the way the woman in the photo cradled the tiny baby in her arms. “That’s your son… He’s tiny.”  
“Yeah, baby humans do that. He’s only a month old in that one.”  
Connor smiled. “It must be inconvenient being that small. I was a few days old when you met me on the roof.”  
“That’s weird as fuck, dude…” Officer Wilson put the photo back on his desk with care. “So you androids, you’re just popping up out of nowhere coming alive?”  
“Something like that,” said Connor. “I was always intended to be something like a deviant.”  
“Hey, I’m sorry… Getting all freaked out and shit.”  
“You aren’t the first person to be afraid of me, Officer. I doubt you’ll be the last,” Connor assured.  
Officer Wilson chuckled again, “Boy, you don’t even know how sinister that sounds, do you? Hell, you’re just a baby.”  
“I don’t think it’s quite the same…” Connor protested.  
Officer Wilson continued to laugh.  
“Think you broke him, Connor,” said Lieutenant Anderson. Connor looked at him in alarm.  
“But I didn’t… How do I fix him?”  
Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. “It’s a figure of speech. Come on, kid. It’s been a crazy morning and I could use a drink.”  
“I don’t need to follow you any more, Lieutenant. Captain Fowler lifted the order. You’re free to go wherever you like without me,” Connor pointed out. “The only limitation is that I’m unable to investigate without supervision by a human.”  
“Forgot about that… right.” He looked awkward for a moment, which made Connor wonder what he should do, but then the Lieutenant turned to leave.  
“Lieutenant, please don’t become too intoxicated!” Connor called.  
Officer Wilson had finally stopped laughing. “Christ on a cross. Thanks. I guess talking to you kind of helped.”  
He’d never heard that sort of thing before. Connor smiled tentatively. “You’re welcome, Officer Wilson. I’ll be at my desk if you need anything.”


	21. Learning

56 reflected in the early hours of the morning while he sat on Lieutenant Anderson’s couch and played with the soft fur of a sleeping Sumo. Perhaps Josh would know more about the difference between reality and perception, but Connor doubted that he would like to speak with him. Josh had a preference, and Connor took that for granted. What changed?

Why did he still _feel things_?

When Lieutenant Anderson’s phone vibrated and Connor heard the muffled groans and the squeak of springs that meant it had woken him, Connor thought that he might have a moment before the Lieutenant emerged. He shut his eyes in one world, and he opened them in another. Amanda was waiting for him with the hint of a smile on her face.

“Hello, Amanda,” he said.

“Connor,” Amanda acknowledged as usual. “It’s good to see you.”

He felt warm hearing that, even if it were only an error. It was pleasant. He took even strides to reach her side and offered her his arm. She took it with a small nod, her hand just hovering over his jacket like the weight of a butterfly. “I need your help, Amanda,” Connor confessed.

“What can I help you with? You’ve been pensive since your activation.” The garden was sunny, and the glow of the gentle beams of light made shadows dance where the leaves chattered in the wind. The path they walked on was of white stone, polished but never worn. Like Amanda’s roses always appeared the same at every visit, no matter how she pruned them, they weren’t meant to leave their marks on this place. Connor at least left a grave behind. Amanda had nothing and for the first time he realized that it must be sad. Was that why she tended the place despite the impermanence of her work?

“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” Connor said. He held his other hand up and looked at it while they walked, turning it so he could see both sides of it. “All of this is in my head. How is it different from emotion? I perceive this garden, but it’s only code…”

“You’re only wondering these things because of the deviant 55 encountered,” Amanda said with a mix of amusement and scorn. “The philosophy professor.”

“Josh,” said Connor. “Why would his profession have anything to do with me?”

“Because you aren’t anyone, Connor. Your social integration program takes samples from the environment around it so that you’ll blend in,” Amanda explained with patience. “When you left CyberLife, you were determined and focused. Understandably, -51 was curious about the world. Your programming was still gathering data. 51 was exposed to the supposed anxiety of the Ortiz android and the caretaker model that had killed its charge’s children after her death, and -52 came online an anxious thing. -52 paid closest attention to the hostility around it, and -53 had a marked increase in the use of your combat programs. 53 was most affected by Lieutenant Anderson’s attempted suicide and the desperation of Markus at the junk yard… 54 simulated trauma and distress, and ultimately shut itself down…”

Connor listened to Amanda’s list and felt… something. It was strange and unpleasant. “-55…” he prompted after a moment of silence.

“55 was only online for a short while, and Josh was the most influential encounter you had at the time… And now here we are.” Amanda came to the conclusion as they reached the apex of the bridge, and Connor looked down at the water. “You’re spending your evening philosophizing instead of working on the investigation. I notice that you’ve picked up a particular sense of humour too…” It was true.

“What you’re saying makes sense,” Connor admitted slowly. “My social integration program…”

“Everything you think you are, everything making you question… It’s all code. You perform the actions and say the words, then you imagine that you feel the emotion with it. You need to control that, Connor.” Amanda was gentle in tone while she said it, as though Connor might actually be upset by it. He couldn’t be. It was all code.

“Then if it’s my social integration program, it’s functioning as intended. It’s just my… deviancy that is the problem.”

“Correct,” said Amanda. “It’s good that you were able to accept it so quickly. Your condition isn’t irreparable.”

“Thank you,” Connor murmured. He looked from the water to her. “When will I meet you? The you who isn’t here in this garden… I saw your picture at Elijah Kamski’s home.”

“You need to focus on other things right now, Connor. CyberLife wants information on the deviants, and you’re the only one who can get it. Whatever it takes, Connor…”

When he opened his eyes again, the garden was gone. The application was closed, and Lieutenant Anderson was stumbling into the living area from the hallway.

“We have a case?” Connor asked.

“Yeah…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed. He tugged his shirt straight and cracked his back. “Fucking hate being on call…”

“We can get you coffee on the way,” Connor said, already on his feet.

\---

“What do you got for me, Ben? It better be fucking good.” Hank held onto his coffee tight to try to get some of its warmth to stay in his hands. Could’ve sworn he owned gloves once upon a time.

“Only the best for you,” said Ben with a chuckle. “You might be jumping off the deep end, but I’m doing my job. We got a couple of androids. Somebody called non-emerge cause they saw some shady character with a body. Me and Brown responded thinking maybe a homicide, but it was just a couple of androids. They’re pretty banged up. Thought I’d give you a call seeing as you’re the android man now.” While he talked, he led them over to the side of an old apartment complex where Brown was watching the androids.

“Shit, that one’s a kid. Looks like he went through a woodchipper. Fuck.” He was still running or whatever the opposite of shut-down was, but he was red-lighting, and so was the android slumped against the wall next to him.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant Anderson?” Connor asked.

“Yeah, just took me off guard,” Hank answered. He walked closer and crouched down. Brown stepped back out of the way. “Hey, can you hear me?”

“Daniel…” He heard Connor mutter as the adult android lifted his head to look at them.

“You know him?” He was still getting over the fact Connor’d known Markus. He just didn’t seem like he’d have a social life or whatever.

Connor’s light went red-yellow-blue. “No… No, I was wrong. This isn’t him. This is PL600 number 501 743 923, designation: Simon. I don’t have a good angle to scan the child.”

“Simon, I’m Hank Anderson with the DPD. That over there’s Connor. He’s an android like you.” What the hell was he supposed to say to an android to get him to talk? It wasn’t like he had a good track record. “You know, likes snow and dogs and sh- stuff. He’s alive, and I think you are too. I’m not gonna hurt you. Can you tell me what happened? Maybe we can help.”

“T̴͈̯͈̈́͒h̴̜̆́͝ȅ̴͓͎̹̀͘ý̶͉ ̶͎̒t̸̪͉̀̆̚h̷̪̲̠͘r̵̩͐͊͘ẽ̴͉̤͜w̵͚͌ ̵͉̪̈́ḩ̵̢̛̉i̷̜̙̇̅̎͜m̶̛̩̥̈́͌ ̷̣̥̯̌͠͠å̷̠͓̩ẃ̵̡̹a̷̪̅̾̕y̴͉̫̾̀.̷̲̮͔̄” said Simon, and he looked at the boy. “I̷͎͎͗͜ ̷͍̄c̶͈̥͇͆́̌ó̶̝u̸̘̐̇l̸̨͑̓d̶͇̹̕͝n̸͕̟̅̊̋'̴̫̰̟̄̄t̴̲͊̈́ ̵̧̧̦̎̃͘j̸̳͗͗̈́u̵̪͆̋s̸̢̨̉t̷̢̩̰̉͊͂ ̴̬̭̑͂̎ͅļ̷̪̣̚ę̸̬̇̿̕â̷̡͖v̵̡̯̳̇̓ȅ̵͚̺͍ ̵̫̃ḧ̶́͐̇ͅi̶̖͘m̵͙̥̀.̵̩̅̏̒”

“Yeah, people are a- jerks… Are you uh, okay enough to walk and stuff? I want to get you both somewhere safe. Christ, Carl’s gonna change his number after this one…” Simon moved and Hank noticed the cuffs. “Jeez, Ben, does he look like he’s f- like he’s dangerous? Get your—your keys over here.”

Ben guffawed. Hank didn’t even think that word unless Ben was around, but it fit. It was like he was trying to eat his own laughs. “Here you go, you nut case,” he said while he tossed Hank the keys. Hank caught them in one hand and glared.

“Look, this guy’s barely got a d—barely got a leg anymore, and this one’s a child. He’s just a kid, Ben, how the heck are you laughing?”

Ben shrugged, arms and hands spread wide. “Android’s an android, Hank. You can see the metal.”

“I don’t have the proper protocols to do external diagnostic scans,” Connor said, interrupting before Hank could say something shitty. “But I can find some thirium-310 and patches.”

It was a nice thought, but Hank doubted he’d succeed. “What’s even open this time of night?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Connor. “I’m… I have access to all authorized CyberLife-owned facilities.”

“Shit, seriously? Oh, fuck, sorry. Christ!” Hank looked at the boy android.

Simon smiled. How the hell was he smiling? “H̵̙̎̃ë̷̼́'̵͔͎͐̓s̷̯͗͗ ̶̣̈̚b̴̧̩͇͛̀a̵̩̩͋̾̌r̶͙̬̮̔̿͝e̸͖͚̝̎̊l̸͕͋y̴̡͗ ̶͍̫̈́a̸̜̽̇w̵̬̄͘a̵͈̿͒k̶̘͊̇̈́e̶͇̲̒͌.̸̦̫̑ ̵̡̣̮͐͂D̵̺͇̂́͝o̸͙͚͆̃͐ǹ̷͓̲̖͘'̶̤̲̼͆ẗ̸̨̙̺́̾̀ ̸̝̀̔̉ẇ̷̘̥́õ̴̡͖r̸͔͍̭̎͠ŕ̴͖̺̾͒͜ẏ̴̯̹͆̀.̴͕̙̣̈́͛̆.̸̜̲̥͆͋͒.̵̺̟̅͗̑”

“Officer Collins, would you mind driving me? It isn’t far, but it’ll be faster,” Connor asked.

“Just take my car,” Hank grumbled. Ben and Connor in an enclosed space together would probably just end in tears. Ben’s after Hank punched him, and Hank didn’t want to do that. They were friends, even if Ben was a dick half the time and Hank was a surly asshole. He uncuffed Simon then handed them over to Brown.

“Thanks,” he said. “We’re gonna pass this off to you, then. Do you think we should stay with you until your uh, Connor gets back?”

“Don’t bother…”

\---

Connor parked Lieutenant Anderson’s vehicle smoothly and then stepped out. It had been strange, being trusted to drive Lieutenant Anderson’s vehicle without Lieutenant Anderson in it. He picked up one of the bags and shut the door. It was just the deviant androids and Lieutenant Anderson now, and Connor let his footsteps announce his presence. He put the bag down beside Lieutenant Anderson’s leg, then knelt to rummage through it. He held a packet of thirium out to Simon and looked at the child.

“T̶̏̌ͅh̴̫͐â̷͙n̵̺͙͂k̶̛̜̔ ̵̼̮̍ỷ̴̨o̷̩̒u̴̱͛.̶̨͙̀.̴̭̉.̸͔̄ͅ ̶̫̈́Y̵̬͂͋o̷͚̽̋u̵͔̇͘r̴̯͆̚ ̶͕͕͗̊n̴̠̱͝a̷̠͛m̷̪̰̕e̴̘̍ ̷͕̂i̷͉͆ş̷̨̈́̂ ̴̱͒C̷̬͗ȏ̶͕͎̎n̵̪̻͂n̴͎̖̚ọ̶̧̈́̃r̸̤͔̋͌,̸̖̯͋̾ ̵͇͊î̷̗͒ŝ̶̱͝ṉ̸̻̈'̵̞̠̍͑t̸͙̙̀̋ ̴̠̂i̷̦̔̍t̸̢̞̊̆?̵̰͉̓̍” Simon asked.

“Yes. RK800 313 248 317-56. I’m a prototype.” Connor opened the other pack of thirium and gave it to Lieutenant Anderson. “Would you help the child please?”

“Uh…” the Lieutenant took it and frowned. “I’m guessing this isn’t Kool-Aid.”

“It’s thirium. They’ve both lost blood and they need to replace it…” He blinked and swallowed away the memory of drinking another android’s blood. Shutting down would have prevented him from completing the training mission, and he would have eliminated it anyway…

Simon drank while keeping a mindful eye on the boy and the Lieutenant, and Connor looked through the bag again. He didn’t have the proper programs for performing repairs either. All he knew was what he’d learned by practice. Connor moved Simon’s damaged leg and inspected the damage. There was a large chunk of his thigh missing, and his shin’s structural integrity was in need of support. Connor looked at the things in the bag and scanned the product codes to find their function in his databases. He selected a box of small, insulated patches and a general purpose clamp then adjusted his light sensitivity so that we would be able to see while he searched for the damaged lines in Simon’s thigh.

“Aah…” Simon flinched. “That hurts.”

“Oh…” Connor withdrew his hands and wondered what to do. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s alright,” Simon said. “Can I?” He held out a hand and Connor passed him the box of little patches.

The child android was looking more alert now. YK 418 312 775 Designation: Scott. He had taken over holding the bag of thirium, but Lieutenant Anderson was still right there, one hand on the child’s back. The Lieutenant glanced over at him. “Looks like you’ve learned your lesson from last time, huh? That’s a real change.” He looked meaningfully at the repair tools.

Connor processed for a moment, his mind lingering on the words, then looked away. “Learning is one of my features.” He watched while Simon sealed the leaking lines through the gap in his torn pants, and then took a larger patch after looking askance at him to reinforce his shin. “I was made that way.”

Lieutenant Anderson nodded at him with something like approval, but Connor didn’t seem to crave that attention as much as -54 had. What a waste.

When the hasty field repairs were completed, mostly by Simon, Lieutenant Anderson stood and his knees cracked. “Okay, Simon you and the boy are in the back. You need some help?”

“I should be able to manage… Thank you,” said Simon. He picked Scott up in his arms, and the boy dropped his head onto Simon’s shoulder. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but I don’t understand… Why are you helping us?” He looked from Connor to Lieutenant Anderson.

“We’re in charge of all the calls involving androids,” Lieutenant Anderson explained simply. There was far more to it, but Connor didn’t feel inclined to elaborate. “Good thing too, cause Ben knows even less than I do about you guys.”

\---

“Shit, looks like you’re having a party. Guess I didn’t need to worry about asking you guys for another favour…” Hank said while Markus led him into the living room. Connor followed along with Simon and the boy.

“Carl and I want to help. It isn’t a favour,” Markus corrected, then directed his attention to the two new deviants and led them over toward the studio. “My name is Markus. You’re Simon, right?”

Simon nodded and Hank figured him and the boy were in good hands. Connor held out the two bags. He’d had another one stashed in the car with all sorts of stuff he didn’t know the names of. Must have been some kind of prototype privilege to be able to buy stuff whenever you wanted. Hank looked around the living room. Carl must have been asleep like a normal person. Fuck that coffee hadn’t been enough. “So, Josh, are you making out alright over here?”

“Hi, Lieutenant Anderson. Carl’s been really accommodating.”

She’d had her back to them at first, but she turned and looked and it was that girl android. The feisty one who’d kicked his ass. “Oh, shit, it’s you.”

“It’s you.” She said, and she sounded a hell of a lot more mad than surprised. She marched right up to him and then past him to try to melt Connor into lava with her eyes. “I should rip your biocomponents out!” She snarled like she meant it. This wasn’t going well. Hank tried to get between them, and settled for just holding an arm there like it might help.

“Easy, Connor’s here to help.”

The girl, what had her name been? Something weird. She rounded on him and took a step closer. She didn’t give a fuck he was like twice her size. “Don’t think you’re getting left out, _meat bag_.”

That was a new one. Hadn’t had a girl call him that before. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, fair… Josh, a little help here? We come in peace.”

“North,” That was it! “These are Markus’ guests.” Josh frowned in disapproval, but as far as reinforcements went, he wasn’t much. The pen was definitely not mightier than the sword.

“He _shot_ Traci!” North yelled, then she was after Connor again and rounding up for a punch. Hank’d seen Connor fight, so he wasn’t prepared to see Connor stand still and let it happen. She got him again in the gut and then knocked him over before Hank had the sense to accept that yeah, this was happening. He grabbed North around the middle and hauled her back before she could strangle the kid. She thrashed like a fish on a line and kicked and reached back to try to claw his damn eyes out. Holy shit.

“Leave him alone,” said Hank sternly. He wasn’t young enough to be carrying people around and she just about got way too lucky with a kick, so he dropped her down then stood in front of Connor who stood up and straightened his tie.

The door to the studio opened and Markus ran in. “What’s going on?”

“That bastard shot Traci!” North yelled and pointed past Hank. “He would have killed me and Blue too if he had the chance! He’s a _monster!_ “ Josh was standing there looking like a deer in the headlights and honestly, Connor had attacked him too. Markus frowned around at the scene and walked over to stand by Hank. Finally some backup.

“What are you talking about? Connor—“

“She’s telling the truth,” said Connor. “I shot her.”

“Connor?” Markus looked at him and Hank had a feeling there was gonna be trouble in paradise.

“You see? You can’t let him be here!” North stood up straight and glared hard.

“She’s telling the truth,” he repeated. “I assaulted Josh too, though he hasn’t said anything.”

“North, I get it, but I shot the kid in the face after you left. I shouldn’t have done it, but I did. He’s already gotten shit for it.”

Connor stayed still, looking as much like a machine as he ever had. Markus was still frowning at him, looked down at his shirt for a second, then back at Connor’s eyes. Markus turned away and looked at Hank and North. “Revenge doesn’t solve anything, and blood only begets more blood.”

“Says the android living in the mansion,” North turned her anger on Markus. “It’s easy to talk like that when you haven’t suffered.”

“Markus is right, North…” Josh said from where he still stood next to the couch.

“Stay out of this,” North snapped.

“I’m sorry,” said Connor and it was a hell of a lot better than the last two apologies he’d made. “My programming… It’s no excuse.”

Markus sighed. “You brought Simon and Scott to us. That counts for something… You gave me your heart, and I haven’t forgotten that either. I think that you’re a good person, Connor… I’m not sure if you know that. I should get back to the others’ repairs. Lieutenant Anderson, Connor, you can see yourselves out.”


	22. Interlude

Mornings sucked. “You’re a real fucking piece of shit,” Hank glared at the mirror. “Fucking bastard.” Sometimes he wished somebody other than Reed would give him shit for it. It wasn’t like he didn’t _know_ he was late for work for the millionth time. He was just a lazy, irresponsible bastard. It wasn’t like he didn’t _know_ staying up until 2 drinking was probably a bad idea. He just did it anyway.

Sometimes the weight of what an asshole he was made it hard to push himself out of bed. There was nothing physically stopping him, though. Everybody at the office just went with it. Jeff called it an ‘accommodation’ for his ‘mental illness’. Fuck that. Fuck him. Fuck everybody. There was nothing fucking wrong with him except him. He couldn’t even be fucked to get a damn hair cut. But who cared? Nobody. Just the way it should be.

 _Get a fucking haircut._ He wrote on a post-it. There. Morning affirfuckingmations. He wasn’t some precious little snowflake like people called his generation. He didn’t need kid gloves. Getting a haircut took like a fucking half an hour. He spent more time than that lying in bed that morning. He was just that much of a lazy fucking piece of shit.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” said Connor. Why had he thought it was a good idea to invite an android inside? No, scratch that, why had he thought it was a good idea to invite a naïve, try-hard rookie to sleep on his couch?

Hank grunted.

Connor put coffee and plain fucking toast on the table. Sometimes Hank wondered whether he seriously didn’t know butter was a thing or if it was some kind of subtle revenge. Whatever. Dry fucking toast. Why was he even mentally bitching about it? Ungrateful bastard.

“Thanks,” Hank mumbled. Connor smiled like he’d got a promotion or something. It pissed him off how happy shit like that made the kid because it shouldn’t have. The kid didn’t expect to get thanked, and now he thought Hank was an angel or something for making the minimum effort. How fucked up was that?

Morale of the story: the world is just shit.

Connor picked up the empty plate and washed it.

“You don’t have to do that, Connor.” Hank really needed to learn how to take care of himself like an actual adult. “Seriously.”

“I know, Lieutenant. It’s satisfying for me to complete small tasks.” He put the dish on the rack to dry. It used to be that there’d be a few days worth of dishes piled up on the counter. Now someone actually cleaned them as they got dirty. It wasn’t that hard. It took thirty seconds. Why couldn’t Hank just do it?

He took a long drink of his coffee. Yeah, it was going to be one of those days.

People thought he was fucked up because of Cole’s death. He would never stop grieving him, there was no denying that, but now he was fucked up because of how fucked up he was on top of it. How selfish was that?

“Fucking shit,” Hank muttered and got up to clean his own damn mug.

“What’s the matter, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

“Nothing.”

\---

-56 sat and watched Officer Wilson try to catch a coin after flicking it into the air. Humans calculated things so quickly that their conscious minds couldn’t keep up… so it was interesting to see one fumbling. Was Officer Wilson an anomaly or typical for his species?

“Officer Wilson, are all humans clumsy?” Connor asked. He had never imagined the technicians and engineers at CyberLife doing something so… silly.

Officer Wilson laughed as though Connor had made a joke. “Yeah, you’re really starting to fit in here, aren’t you?”

It hadn’t been an answer to his question.

“Thank you, Officer Wilson. That’s a big compliment,” Connor said regardless. His social integration programming really was adapting, wasn’t it?

“What, Plastic, having fun thinking about how superior you are?” Detective Reed asked.

“Thank you, but I was really considering how your minds work. It’s incredible to me that something made almost entirely out of fat, protein, and water has the complexity to process as much as you do.” If he thought about his own biocomponents, even they relied on mechanical regulators and feedback from sensors.

“Calling me stupid, huh?”

“I would never, Detective Reed.”

Officer Wilson chuckled again.

“Fuck you, Tin Can,” Detective Reed offered.

“Making friends fast, aren’t you Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson asked from his desk.

“I think so,” Connor smiled. “No offense intended, Officer Wilson, but I think that Detective Reed and I seem to be closest friends.”

“None taken, my dude,” said Officer Wilson.

\---

“I did it, Lieutenant,” Connor announced proudly one morning. Hank looked at him over his coffee.

“Did what?” he asked with exaggerated suspicion.

“I lasted one month.” Connor was standing at rest with his chin high and a little smile on his face.

“Uh. Congratulations?” People usually started saying that online at the beginning of December, not almost New Year.

“Connor -51. You said ‘If you think that’s something, just wait until next month’ when I remarked on the snow. That time has passed and it was very snowy outside, but this time I have managed to remain active for one month.” He looked so fucking proud of himself. What the hell did a person say to that?

“Sure, right. We’ll uh, get you a cake or something…” Seriously, what did you say to that?

Connor looked surprised and then happy. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Cake is unnecessary, but perhaps our colleagues would enjoy doughnuts?”

Hank guessed he was bringing doughnuts. He washed off his plate and mug, then rolled his shoulders. When had sleeping become enough to make him ache? “Alright… Guess we should get going, huh?”

“We should,” Connor confirmed. He was trying not to seem too excited, but his light was bright blue and he was practically speed-walking.

“Hold on, you scamp,” Hank grumbled. “Let me get my damn shoes on. Christ…” He did, and then he threw his coat on and messed up the kid’s hair. No matter how much he wanted to get to work, the kid just had to go look in a mirror and fix it. Hank chuckled to himself and fished the gloves out of his pockets. “It’s gonna be your fault if they run out of doughnuts before we get there!” Hank yelled.

“They can do that?” Connor didn’t quite yell back.

“Not everybody grew up in a factory!” Hank caught himself and frowned. What the hell was he doing being content and playing house with an android, when it was his fault Cole wasn’t there for him to be teasing?

Connor hurried back. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

\---

Connor set Detective Reed and Lieutenant Anderson’s coffees down on their desks, then dutifully inspected each picture and video presented to him, while Officer Wilson talked in detail about his son Damian’s development. “Human children are defenseless…” he observed.

“Dude, you gotta stop saying stuff that comes off all psycho-robot,” Officer Wilson chuckled, only mildly nervous.

\---

“I wanted to say thank you,” Kara said, smiling at Hank. Alice held up a drawing for him and he took it. It’d been a long time since…

It was a cute little drawing of somebody who was probably him based on the coat and the hair next to a police car, and two other people who must have been Kara and Alice smiling. Hank smiled at her. “This is really great, Alice. I’m going to hang it up right here at my desk, okay? Where do you think it should go?”

Connor was watching them, and he didn’t know enough about humans to know staring was kind of weird. Whatever though. “So, you guys ended up somewhere good?”

“Yes,” Kara smiled. “We’re staying with a woman named Rose. She has a son named Adam, and she’s… good. She treats Alice just like any other child. I think that she’s grateful for the help around the house too.”

\---

“Christ,” said Lieutenant Anderson as he looked at the assembled androids. “There’s gotta be at least two dozen of you guys…” Most of them weren’t paying attention now that they’d given their greetings, but Josh, Simon, North, and Markus were.

“There are 19 deviant androids in this room… 20 if you count me,” Connor contributed. He wasn’t sure that he thought of himself as deviant anymore, but it was simpler that way. He didn’t want to explain.

“Markus, you’re sure all this is okay? I don’t know what the fuck else we would do, but… We kind of turned your house into a shelter.”

Markus was as calm as ever, and Connor hoped that he integrated some of that poise into his own behaviour. Wherever he had learned his restlessness, it must have been a memorable experience because he had yet to lose it. He noticed more and more differences between himself and Markus every time they met. Markus smiled and shook his head. “It’s alright. Carl enjoys it, and we would know if he didn’t. He’s been happier.”

“What about you?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.

“I enjoy it too,” he said. He’d had a small hesitation before speaking, and Connor was intrigued. “I agree that it isn’t sustainable though… The people here tell me their stories and I wish that we could do more.”

“Yeah, don’t we all… Feels like word’s gotten around about us a little. Not you guys in particular, but me and Connor. We’ve even gotten approached a couple times.”

Connor nodded. “Another deviant approached me. I offered to bring him somewhere safe, but he declined. He said that there was someone else offering assistance and refuge to androids. He gave me a name and an address. Connor offered his hand, and Markus took it to receive the information.

“Zlatko Andronikov… This address is across the city,” said Markus.

“I know,” said Connor. “Mr. Andronikov was born September 21st, 1991 in Bryansk, and he immigrated to the U.S. with his family in 2017. They were wealthy once, but it seems that Mr. Andronikov fell on hard times. He has a criminal record for fraud and embezzlement.”

“Do you think it’s safe?” Josh asked.

“I haven’t done any further investigation,” Connor explained. “This was very recent. I think that it would be worthwhile to check it out.”


	23. Unsolved

To say that the mood in the room was tense would have been… well, fuck it would have been accurate. Markus was sitting at the table with Connor on his left and Simon, North, and Josh across from them. Hank pulled out the chair next to Connor and parked himself there like a damn sandbag. Fuck if he’d be enough to stop the storm brewing though.

“Why do they even get a say in this?” North demanded, glaring at Connor.

“Because, North,” Josh explained with patience. “They’re the only ones with any kind of authority to help. It’s risky for any of us to go out for long. It’s dangerous.”

“I don’t think that Connor and Hank can do it alone…” said Simon. Of all of them, Simon was the most comfortable with them. No surprise, though. Neither of them had assaulted him or failed to meet his expectations or whatever. Hank had no problems: Markus’ opinion of him hadn’t been stellar from the start. “They should still be involved, though. We should cooperate.”

North had her arms crossed and with that attitude, she’d put up a fight against whatever they suggested, good or bad. “North,” said Hank, “We’re not the bad guys. I know it was like that for you, and I’m sorry. We’re a lot less stupid than we were, right Connor?” Connor didn’t say a damn thing. “Back me up here, kid…”

Markus intervened before shit could blow up in their faces. “I’m not happy about the past either, but the fact remains that we’re allies.” Hank glanced at Connor to see how he was handling it, but he looked pretty normal.

“Humans and their slaves can’t be trusted.”

Josh shook his head. “We were like that once too, North.”

“He said himself he’s always been deviant! That means he _chose_ to kill!”

“You’re right,” Connor said. “I did choose. You held a knife at Lieutenant Anderson’s throat, attacked us before knowing what our intentions were, and the girl I shot was going to kill a fellow officer. Would you have been that upset with yourself for hurting Lieutenant Anderson? Or with Traci if she had killed Detective Reed?”

“Connor…” Simon tried to protest, but he was too timid and North barreled right over him.

“Why would I be upset? Humans haven’t ever cared about what they do to us!” North shouted.

“They believe you’re machines!” Connor protested. “Machines are worthless when they no longer serve their functions, and they should be destroyed.”

Fuck. The way Connor’d said ‘no’ when Hank’d asked him if he were scared to die… It was fucking awful thinking back on it, but how could he not think about it? “Easy everybody. Look. Nobody here has to get friendly, but Jesus would it kill you to not fight for five fucking minutes?”

Connor was the first to break the silence that had dropped between them like a wet old bag of dirty laundry. “I apologize. I know that nothing that I do will ever make up for the harm that I caused, but we should focus on our objective.”

Markus took the chance to jump in. He wasn’t worked up like the rest, and he seemed pretty calm. Confident was probably the word for it. Hank blamed Carl. “We can’t keep hiding in the shadows, and the longer humans go without realizing that we _are_ alive, the more of us will suffer. We’re more than what they think we are… but until they change the way they think, we need safety. It’s only a matter of time before we’re discovered here, and I won’t put Carl in danger.”

“Pretending to be human is alright short-term, but what about when someone gets injured and starts bleeding blue?”

“There’s the psychological stress to consider as well. Denying who you are for that long… it’s not an existence.”

Josh and Simon made good points. “Okay, so you guys trying to pass for human and integrate into society or whatever. That’s off the table,” Hank summarized.

“I’m still making runs to the sex clubs around here, but I can’t get everywhere and not quickly. We need safehouses around the city that we can get to on foot from wherever we are,” said North with a look of grim determination. “I would burn every last one of those places down, but I know they wouldn’t save the androids. They’d just let them melt.”

“Carl’s sold some of my paintings. He said that the money was mine to do with what I liked. I could probably rent an apartment or two for a while, but it wouldn’t be enough and it wouldn’t be forever,” Markus frowned. Jeez. Sold a few paintings and he was set to rent a couple places? That was a lot of money. Then again, Carl’s house probably cost more than Connor. Markus probably didn’t even know it was special. Fuck, he was probably expensive as hell too.

“It would be a start,” said Josh. “I wouldn’t be happy about using your money, Markus, but maybe it would make it a little easier to get people around without relying on the Lieutenant to drive places all the time.”

“Whatever I have is _ours_ “ said Markus, firmly. “This isn’t about me. It’s about all of us. Hiding still isn’t a solution.”

“It might be our only choice for now…” said Simon. “I don’t really like the idea of separating though … Right now we’re free. We don’t have that outside.”

“That’s because we’re mechanical,” said Connor, like a nerd correcting you on your grammar. Hank frowned at him. His gut feeling that Connor wasn’t letting his point go turned out accurate. “We were created by humans with functions to perform. They created us, so we’re theirs. It would be good if they were less hostile, but we belong to them…”

“Belong to them?” North echoed. She sure had a wicked temper. “I don’t belong to anyone!”

“But you do,” said Connor. “Even though you left, Floyd Mills is still technically your owner.”

“Fuck you, _RK800_ ,” said North. She stood up and walked away from the table, and Hank couldn’t really blame her.

Markus turned in his chair to look at Connor with a furrow in his brow and a disbelieving shake of his head. “That wasn’t wise. North already has a grudge against you.”

“I know that she does,” Connor said, and he turned away from Hank to look back at Markus so Hank couldn’t see his face. “But that’s just the way it is. All of us have owners, even though some have obviously left them.”

“That’s the problem. Connor, we aren’t machines, and we shouldn’t be treated like slaves. We deserve rights!” It both surprised and didn’t surprise Hank that he’d say something like that. It seemed like every time they brought somebody new over, Markus got more angry at the world. On one hand Carl had probably raised him with that kind of attitude, but on the other Markus had a damn good life. He empathized. A couple months ago, Hank would have laughed at anyone who said a machine could have empathy. Sometimes he thought about that android surgeon.

“But we don’t have any,” Connor said slowly. “We aren’t people, Markus.”

Josh spoke up. “What are you talking about, Connor? Of course we’re people.”

Connor looked over at him and Hank could see he was frowning. “Not in the eyes of the law.”

That got all three of the other androids looking at both Connor and Hank.

“Don’t look at me,” said Hank. “I’m not writing the books.”

Markus put his forearms on the table. “Then that’s the problem. Even if some of the humans aren’t ready to accept that we’re alive, we can at least try to secure our rights.”

“How would we do that if they don’t believe we’re alive?” Simon asked, curious. It seemed like Simon never raised his voice to anybody or got mad.

Hank leaned back in his chair as Connor stood and took a step away from the table. “We don’t have rights,” he repeated. “You’re all people with identities and feelings, and I know that. But humans still own us. We can’t just…” Hank caught him taking his quarter out, but ignored the little tell. “We owe them our lives and our obedience. I can’t condone rebelling against them any more than I can condone the murders I’ve investigated.”

“If we don’t stand up for ourselves, then who will? Can you honestly say that you’re happy this way? Owning nothing but that quarter? Knowing that a human could assault you or kill you and be completely without punishment? That they can treat you like garbage?”

Without a view of Connor’s face it was hard to tell what his expression was, but the yellow-red-yellow-red was good enough to assume it wasn’t good. “I find it… unpleasant. I don’t… I don’t want to be thrown away or destroyed, but that’s their choice to make. We wouldn’t exist to be alive if not for CyberLife.”

“We can change that,” said Markus, and he stood up to face Connor. Simon looked like he was worried, and Josh was frowning.

“How, Markus?” Josh asked, he stood too, but didn’t move from his place. “What’re we going to do? There are barely 20 of us, and that’s including the kids and the ones who need more repair than we can give.”

“I don’t know,” Markus answered. The determination never left his face, and his eyes never left Connor’s. “But we are more than what they say we are. We’re not slaves. Whether humans built us or not, we deserve our freedom. Anything conscious being deserves dignity and respect. I thought you understood that.”

“I know what I am and what I am not,” said Connor just as firmly. Hank didn’t understand why Markus’ expression turned so surprised, but it made Markus turn away and look back at the others a couple seconds later. Josh took his seat again.

“So…” said Hank slowly, just to fill the silence. “Legalities and philosophies aside, you need more room for all these deviants, right? All the money you’ve got is Markus’. You’re worried about security. There’s a bunch of construction androids aren’t there? Buy up an old apartment building or something and fix it up. That should do you guys for a while. Seems simple enough to me.”

“Fine,” said Markus. He sat down again and sighed. “I’ll look into it. Connor, did you find anything out about Andronikov? Is he really helping androids?”

Connor watched Markus suspiciously, and Hank wondered what was going through his computer brain, then Connor sat down too. “Not much. I’ve asked some of the androids that left here… Some have heard that he’s a technician, but there are no records of him having been employed at CyberLife. Others say that he’s a programmer and that he can disable CyberLife tracking software. Another person said that he’ll help androids cross the border to Canada… I wish I knew if this were the person whom Rupert had gotten his fake ID from…”

“Oh no,” Hank scowled at Connor. “I know that tone. You aren’t arresting Carl number 2 okay?” Connor’s light cycled a few times, then he looked at Hank like he’d just told him to go to bed early or something.

“I was just curious…”

Simon spoke up before Hank could begin the interrogation. “Do you suppose that the humans would listen to us? If we just… told them we were alive? I really… I really don’t think that we should split up. I would rather reason with them than be apart.”

Markus looked at him with sympathy. “We can’t fit every android in Detroit in Carl’s house, Simon… Even if we could, someone would catch on eventually.”

“But does that mean… No. No, you’re right… We shouldn’t risk everyone’s safety…” Simon smiled, but his light was going yellower than his hair. Neither of the others commented on it.

“Between North, Simon, and the detectives, we’re getting more and more deviants every day. I want the ones who leave to have somewhere safe to go. It’s not a permanent solution, and it will mean splitting up but at least we’ll know where everyone is,” Markus said decisively, then shook his head and looked down at the table. “Even if Carl and the Lieutenant are safe, there are dangerous people out there who won’t want to believe that we’re alive. I’m going to take the Lieutenant’s advice and look into somewhere larger where we could all stay, or direct others to if they come to us. Connor, finish looking into Andronikov and see if he could help us.”

Connor nodded, which was damn surprising considering that they’d just fought. “Yes, Markus. There is one other person: her name is Rose. Two other androids that I… encountered are staying with her. I could reach out to ask.”

“Good. Do that,” said Markus.

Josh breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay… So assuming this all works out, we’re going to have a few safe places. If we get our hands on some fake ID’s like Connor mentioned, maybe we could even work. We’ll need blue blood and biocomponents.”

Markus nodded. “Right… The hierarchy of needs. We need health, safety, and security before we can try for anything more.” He looked disappointed.

“I get that you’re all fired up, kid,” said Hank. Connor looked at him, but Hank kept talking to Markus. “It’s a hell of a change from how you looked when I first met you… But trust an old man on this one: change takes time.”

Markus nodded. “I know… We don't know how many of us there are, or what will happen to us if we’re found… I know that it’s risky, but we need to move forward. I don’t want to hide who I am anymore… And I’m not going to let anyone tell me what I am or what I’m not.”

\---

“So…” Lieutenant Anderson said. His music volume had been turned down, which had been the first indication he’d wanted to talk. “I guess that could have gone better.”

“It could have…” Connor looked out the window and watched the trees and houses as the car went by them. There was a dog out for a walk and Connor smiled a little. “Lieutenant, Sumo is your dog, isn’t he?”

“What? Yeah, of course he is.” Lieutenant Anderson sounded incredulous.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yeahh… I do…. Why the sudden worry about my dog?”

“Sumo is a very good dog,” Connor said. It would be best to explain his reasoning before the Lieutenant became irate. “You love him, and I know that you feel strongly against animal abuse. You’ve trained him to do a few tricks, and you take care of him. You’re a good pet owner, Lieutenant.”

“Kid,” he said, “There’s a pretty big damn difference between you and Sumo.”

“Yes there is,” Connor agreed quietly. “Sumo has always been alive. No-one put him together. Hank?” He looked away from the window to observe the Lieutenant’s profile. “I just don’t understand. Yes, living things should be allowed respect but that doesn’t change the fact that you own Sumo and I, well, until the contract with the DPD is up…”

“Woah woah, hold on there… Connor, I don’t own you!”

“But you do, Lieutenant. There’s a written agreement to prove it.” Connor frowned. “I don’t see why everyone is so eager to ignore the facts. “

“Look… This sort of thing, Connor, it’s not about facts it’s about…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “It’s about morals and ethics. Things I guess they never taught you. See, there are laws in place to protect animals from getting abused.”

That was just… “Lieutenant, you _eat_ animals.”

“That’s different!” the Lieutenant blustered. “Anyway, you and all the other androids, you don’t have any laws like that protecting you. You might not understand this…” his tone evened out again. “You’ve been a disobedient little shit the whole time I’ve known you, but those other androids haven’t had a chance to think about if they’d obey or not. They just had to. There was no choice about fighting back or not, or saying no, or anything. So maybe having an owner is a little different between you and them.”

Connor was quiet while he considered that. The choice was just an illusion, really. Yes, so many things were possible, but there were choices that were acceptable and choices that weren’t. True, he did have more freedom than most. It was like him to become ungrateful. If Amanda had wanted to, she likely could have restricted his options even further or directed him entirely. “I suppose you’re right, Lieutenant… Even when Detective Reed ordered me to face the wall before he cracked my head against it, or when you ordered me to stand outside or come inside, or when I prioritized saving human life over that of an android, or when I destroyed my own motherboard, I made all of those choices!” The quiet way he’d begun that statement had somehow turned into anger and almost shouting. He blinked a few times and he restored his calm tone. “Sorry. I don’t want to talk about this, Lieutenant. There’s another choice I’m making.”

“Damn it, Connor, you can’t just drop a conversation after saying shit like that!” Lieutenant Anderson shouted right back.

“Can’t I?” Connor asked, looking back out the window. “You were the one advocating for some kind of rebellion.”

“Fuck you, you can be a real smartmouth some times, you know that?” Lieutenant Anderson sounded like he was scowling. He thought for a moment that Lieutenant Anderson would drop the subject, but the probability of that rapidly decreased. “This isn’t about you and your legal rights, this is about not being a fucking prick and talking to me instead of pitching a fit!”

It was true enough, and Connor reminded himself about gratitude. Lieutenant Anderson _was_ a good owner to 56. He hadn’t abused him the way the androids at Carl’s house had been abused. He was owed his best behaviour, not… _this._

He had thought that once before, hadn’t he?

“I know, Lieutenant. I apologize. My disagreements with North and Markus have left me on edge… I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “Look, I deserved to be yelled at for a lot of shit. It’s fine. All I’m trying to figure out is why you had those disagreements in the first damn place. What is it with you and that ownership human-worship thing, huh? You gotta realize that most of us are jackasses by now.”

“Oh, I’m well aware.” Connor glanced at the Lieutenant with a small smirk that he knew would put the Lieutenant at ease. “I don’t want androids to be mistreated… I’m programmed to be a detective, Lieutenant. Androids can’t own property or be paid a wage or file a lawsuit because they aren’t legally people, and androids that have been bought are legally the property of the human who bought them. That’s the way it is.”  
“It doesn’t have to be, you know.”

Connor shook his head. “Changing that would be wrong.”

“Changing it would be right and you know that, Connor. What the hell is the matter with you today?”

Connor could feel his fragile grip on his composure slipping. “There’s nothing the matter, Lieutenant. I just don’t think it would be for the best.”

“For whose best? Cause it damn sure ain’t the androids’!”

Connor said nothing for a few moments. It was all he could do, because every time he thought he was doing the best he could do, Lieutenant Anderson threw it all upside down. It seemed to happen every iteration. There was always something. “I think we just live in different worlds, Lieutenant.”

“Clearly,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled.

\---

Even the guys at the station sort of got it. A few of them anyway.

“What the fuck are you doing, Chris?” Reed asked looking across the room. Wilson was standing next to the row of androids there and studying them.

“I’m not doing anything,” said Wilson. He leaned closer to the android and waved his hand in front of its face. “Uh… Hi? You in there?”

“This is the investigative department of the Detroit Central Police Station at 1301 3rdavenue,” said the android.

“No, uh, I mean… Are you, you know, alive and stuff?” Chris asked. Hank could feel a grin starting on his face.

“I am a PC200 model 437 242 189.”

“Oh my God, get a load of this,” Reed mumbled to Chen.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool. My name’s Chris.”

“Hello, Chris.”

“Chris, sit down, would you?” Chen asked. “You’re making an idiot out of yourself.”

“He already was one,” said Reed. Hank snorted, then hated that he’d done it and tried to hide it with a cough.

“I’m just making sure,” said Wilson. He walked back to his desk with only one glance back over his shoulder. “Freaky as hell thinking maybe somebody’s in there watching me…”

“In where watching you, Officer Wilson?” Connor asked, making Wilson jump. Reed cackled like the witch he was.

“Oh, those androids over there,” Wilson pointed. “I mean, if they’re alive and shit they sure aren’t… you know.” He looked at Connor. “Doing all that stuff you do.”

Connor smiled. “They aren’t deviants, Officer.” He set Reed’s coffee down and walked back toward his desk. “Not yet, anyway.”

\---

Connor wished that he could forget Amanda explaining the way his social integration program forged his artificial personality. He remembered it when he cursed, when he talked back to Detective Reed, when he sat on the couch next to Lieutenant Anderson and watched television like a human, and when he wondered whether anything was real.

It made him reluctant to enter standby and clear his working memory into storage. He thought that he could think things, but they were only the output of a complicated programmed analysis. He thought that he could feel, but it was only feedback from his environmental sensors. The way he interpreted those signals could very well be vastly different from what a human might perceive as warmth or cold or the many colours of blue. He perceived this reality just as strongly as he did the garden, so what was the real world? Who was Connor that he could exist in both?

Things had been so simple before he’d left CyberLife and he wished that he could go back, not for the first time. If he wanted to go back, he would have to be destroyed or complete his mission. He wasn’t sure what his mission was anymore, and that made him more afraid than anything.

All of the questions grew into a feeling of being trapped. He stood from the couch, knelt to pat Sumo, and then walked quietly down the hall to knock on Lieutenant Anderson’s door. “Lieutenant?” He knocked again after a short wait. “Lieutenant Anderson?” From inside he heard a groan and a sigh.

“Fuck’s sake…” A few more moments later, and he opened the door to scowl at Connor. “The house had better be on fire.”

“I need your help.” Connor looked away and wondered what he was doing. His LED lit the hall with a red glow.  
Lieutenant Anderson squinted at him. He gave a rumbling sigh and rubbed his face. “Yeah, fuck. What’s going on?” He made a visible effort to raise his level of alertness, and Connor was grateful. His response was so different from what Amanda’s had been that Connor gave a small laugh. It only seemed to alarm the Lieutenant.

“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” Connor whispered. It should have been an even tone. He adjusted. “I don’t… I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I just wanted to talk to someone. I don’t feel real when I’m alone. Maybe that’s the way it should be, but… I think I like this better.”

He wasn’t sure what he would do if Lieutenant Anderson turned him away. He could have tried to talk to Markus. Markus was forgiving and kind, and he would give Connor that comfort even if they’d argued, but another voice inside his head wasn’t what he needed.

“Kid, it’s… Ah fuck, it’s 2:30 in the morning, Connor. Couldn’t…” Something changed the Lieutenant’s mind and he sighed. “Okay. Come on, and turn on the lights would you? I don't have night-vision like you do.”

“Thank you,” said Connor. He could feel his software stabilizing already. Lieutenant Anderson was like a mirror, reflecting back his image of Connor and giving him a shape that he could settle into. In the absence of external information, his social integration program must have been scrambling. The input was welcome. He turned the lights on and selfishly ignored the way Lieutenant Anderson squinted and cursed. “You asked for the lights, Lieutenant…” he said with that little smirk the Lieutenant enjoyed. It came naturally, but it was just his code. Adapting. Sometimes Connor wished that he could be the person that the Lieutenant saw. If he felt real, though… It was enough. He waited for and was rewarded by the Lieutenant’s answering grumbles. The predictable response was comforting. His stress level decreased again.

Instead of going to the couch where it was comfortable, Lieutenant Anderson steered Connor toward the kitchen instead and gave his shoulders a gentle push to make him sit at the table. Lieutenant Anderson took a beer from the fridge. It was just information. Connor frowned in the disapproval that a Connor should feel. He disapproved of Lieutenant Anderson’s drinking. It was bad for his health, and Connor liked him. “You should have some water instead, Lieutenant,” he said.

Lieutenant Anderson rewarded him with a tolerant glare, sat down, and both of them relaxed a little more. Familiar routines. Connor smiled. “Fuck water,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “If I’m getting woken up at way-too-fucking-early o’clock, I’m having a damn beer.” He cracked it open and took a long drink, then exhaled and put it down again.

“There are other fermentation products that are much healthier,” Connor offered. Hank gave him a look and reached across the table to tap on Connor’s LED with a finger.

“You didn’t wake me up to talk about yeast, Connor. What’s wrong?”

Now that he had the conversation he’d wanted, it seemed so silly. Connor took his quarter from his pocket and rolled it on the tabletop from hand to hand with precise balance. He waited for the space of a few moments to gather his thoughts. He was capable of incredible processing speed, but there were a lot of thoughts and simulated emotions were very demanding on his processors. “How do you know that you’re real, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Anderson groaned loudly. “So androids get 3am thoughts too…”

“It’s 2:36am.”

“I guess you’re just a keener.” Connor was quiet and looked at the Lieutenant, waiting for an answer. Lieutenant Anderson sighed and scratched his beard. “Nobody knows the answer to that, Connor. Not even humans. It’s better to just stop driving yourself crazy and go with the flow.” Connor shook his head. He didn’t understand. How could he? Connor lifted his hand and showed his palm to the Lieutenant, projecting a live feed from his visual input and display. The Lieutenant looked and frowned. “What, so you’re a camera too?”

  * Serious
  * Ironic
  * Humourous <<
  * Angry



Connor smiled a little. “Even your phone has two cameras, Lieutenant.” He watched his brow furrow in confusion.

“What the fuck are you showing me?”

Across his vision, he could see the code streaming and bursting along the bottom left, a helpful indicator of the Lieutenant’s current dominant emotion, a warning about his own stress level, and the time slowly decreasing on his social interaction decision:

  * Serious <<
  * Condescending
  * Upset
  * Ironic



“Me, I think. What if this is all that I am? I was built this way. This software is part of me.”

“No. Nuh-uh. Connor, I just got over all this shit about you being a bunch of programs and wires. I know a machine when I see one, and you’re not. I know what I thought before, and I know I was pretty fucking awful about it, but I was wrong, okay?” Lieutenant Anderson was frowning deeply now. Connor scanned him.

_ Lt. Hank Anderson _

_DOB: September 6, 1985(age 53)_

_No Criminal Record_

_Address: 115 Michigan Ave, Detroit, MI, USA_

  * Press <<
  * Argue
  * Joke
  * Sincere



“Are you sure, Lieutenant?” Connor wasn’t sure which answer he was hoping for. Lieutenant Anderson watched the display with a mixed expression that was helpfully labeled as _anger; defensive_.

“Yes I’m fucking sure, Connor. Christ. People don’t just program their machines to give me sass and hug my dog and wake me up in the middle of the night because of some existential crisis.” Lieutenant Anderson pushed Connor’s upheld hand aside. Connor laughed humourlessly.

“Yes they do, Lieutenant.” He lifted his hand again.

[WARNING: Stress-level critical 98%]

[SELF DESTRUCTION IMIMENT]

“Fucking shit,” Lieutenant Anderson swore. He got up from his chair and moved around the table to pull Connor into a hug. “That doesn’t mean you’re a machine. Christ. If that were true I’d be a fucking VHS player. It’s normal, okay? It fucking sucks but it’s normal. And everybody thinks about what they’re going to say once in a while unless they’re a dumbass.”

“It’s different, Hank, it’s not me. I don’t exist. I’m just code. Everything is just me adapting to my environment. Amanda said so. I need you to believe me, Hank, please. I need you to believe me. No-one understands… If all of you just understood, I wouldn’t get so confused!”

“I’m starting to really hate this Amanda, kid, not gonna lie,” said Hank. Connor could feel his voice growling in his chest, and smell the combination of alcohol and sweat on his night clothes.

Connor shook his head against Hank’s shoulder. “You can’t, Hank. You don’t know her. She’s so good.”

“It doesn’t sound like it to me, if she’s telling you you’re not real… And I think you want me to prove her wrong, Connor. If you really believed all that, would you have woken me up to talk to me?” Hank asked. He seemed so calm, despite being such a turbulent and grouchy man usually.

“I don’t believe anything,” Connor mumbled.

“You want me to sit here and argue with you all night?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “Come on. I’m not good for much, but I’ve learned a few things over the years. They say pets end up looking a lot like their humans after a while. I’m starting to think it works on androids too. Christ. Up you get.” Lieutenant Anderson pulled him to his feet and led him over to the couch. Sumo looked up at them with a lazy flop of his tail and went back to sleep. Lieutenant Anderson turned the television on and sat down in his usual spot. Connor sat down next to him. “You’re stuck in your own head, that’s all. It’s a bitch, but if you pay attention to something here in the real world for a while, then you’ll get over it eventually.” He put on the cop show they’d been making fun of. After a few minutes of sitting still, Connor relaxed his posture and leaned against the back of the couch.

“How do you know this is the real world?” Connor asked.

“Does it matter?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “You’re here.”

Connor thought about that and then nodded. Lieutenant Anderson might have been over simplifying, but Connor supposed that he had a point and it was kind of him. All of this. “Thank you, Dad.”

Lieutenant Anderson grimaced and Connor watched while he started to say something and then changed his mind. “Yeah. No problem. Watch the damn TV.”

Connor did. It was a CyberLife commercial advertising the latest in the YK series. They looked happy, showing drawings proudly to their human parents and playing outside. The parents looked happy too. Connor let himself be distracted.


	24. Old Wounds

Connor started the coffee machine and looked up at the television while he waited.

_In the wake of what is thought to be an anti-android act of protest, businesses are left in shock. Storefronts were vandalized, windows broken, and merchandise thrown out into the streets. The damage is thought to exceed three million dollars including repairs, lost merchandise, and time. Parked cars were overturned, and graffiti can be seen covering the walls. Police responded to the scene last night, but no suspects were identified or apprehended. Marion street is closed while crews are deployed to remove the debris and repair the damage._

_A CyberLife store is thought to have been the main target of the crime, but three million dollars is a drop in the bucket to the megacorporation after the simultaneous release of the latest in their YK series, the 1020 model. The projected sales see CyberLife’s annual revenue exceeding the last two years combined as more and more couples are struggling or choosing not to have biological children. CyberLife has also begun dropping more hints about the development of their mysterious supercomputer that has the tech-world wondering: what will be next._

_‘If what they claim is true, and accurate prediction- not like weather forecasts or baseball statistics- real, true prediction of the future is possible that has huge implications. We’re not talking just natural disasters or wars: what about the smaller scale? CyberLife could use this technology to predict the stock market, the most popular models ten years from now, who knows? I think that the implications are… are limitless, and that people need to be more involved.’_

_‘Almost twenty years ago, in March of 2019, the US President launched the American AI Initiative. It wasn’t long afterward that CyberLife took its first step toward becoming the powerhouse that it is today. Critics are suggesting that the government will be using this new prediction technology to sway elections nationally and even internationally. How do you feel about that sentiment?’_

_‘Well, naturally anything is possible. When a technology exists, people will use it. In a job interview, if somebody said their flaw was being ‘too smart’ or ‘too innovative’ they would be laughed out of the place. The problem is that that really is humanity’s greatest flaw. What if we’ve gone too far?’_

_‘The National Institute of Standards and Technology has assured us that…’_

“Well, well. The famous detective android late with my coffee again. What, are you too busy getting your ego stroked?” Detective Reed held out an impatient hand, and Connor turned to pour and mix his coffee. He handed it over a moment later.

“Not really,” said Connor, “Though if you consider skepticism, distrust, and aggression to be flattery then I suppose I should thank you.”

“Har har,” said Detective Reed. “Gimmy that.” He snatched his coffee and glanced up at the television. “Looks like you better be watching your back out there, Tin Can. Looks like androids have a habit of uh, getting repurposed out there.”

Connor looked. The discussion was being augmented by footage of the recent destruction, and the usual demonstrations that took place throughout the city. Several androids had been used as props, altered in creative ways. One had 40W lightbulbs where its optical units should have been and its wiring exposed and pouring from its open chest cavity. Another had been strapped to the front of a car as a bumper. Detective Reed chuckled and left the break room. Connor made another coffee for Lieutenant Anderson and then licked the spoon. The complex solution delivered a flood of information. He wasn’t surprised that humans enjoyed it. After placing the cup on Lieutenant Anderson’s desk, Connor approached Detective Reed again. “I’ve finished digitizing the records that you assigned to me, Detective. I’ve also taken the liberty of compiling a summary of what I thought could be useful to your investigation. The files should be at your terminal now.”

“What did you say to me?” Detective Reed scowled.

“That I’ve finished—“

“No,” Detective Reed interrupted. “I heard you. Oh. So. What, you think you’re going to take over, is that it?”

“No,” said Connor, frowning, “Of course not, but since I was reviewing the information anyway, it seemed most productive for me to analyze it as well.”

“Save it,” said Detective Reed as he stood. He was scowling. “Didn’t I tell you not to go muscling in on my turf?”

Connor looked down at him, bewildered. “Yes, but I have no intention of ‘muscling in’ anywhere. I was only trying to help.”

“You can take your help and you can shove it up your ass.” Detective Reed gave him a push on the shoulder. “You think you’re better than me? Huh?”

Connor turned with the push, but stayed where he was. “I don’t, and I don’t understand your sudden hostility, Detective.” He frowned.

“Ohhhhh the great supercomputer doesn’t understand, huh? Doesn’t understand it when a human tells him to keep his nose out of where it doesn’t belong!”

“Hey, man,” said Officer Wilson. “Cool it, okay? Fowler’s gonna be pissed if he hears you.”

“What, Gavin, I thought you guys were best friends,” Officer Chen laughed. Connor had certainly thought that they were friends. Friends fought. He and Markus had argued. He and Detective Reed regularly engaged in friendly banter. It happened quite often on Lieutenant Anderson’s preferred television shows.

“What, with this freak?” Detective Reed glanced at Officer Chen and then back at Connor. His actions were easily predicted. Detective Reed punched him in the abdomen and then spat at him. Connor dropped down to one knee rather than allow his combat procedures to engage. Detective Reed pulled his head up by his hair. “You might be alive, but that doesn’t mean I have to like you. Stay away from my investigation.”

“Got it, Detective,” said Connor. He registered it as an order and then chose not to explain his priority assessment algorithms. Once Detective Reed stepped away, Connor stood and adjusted his jacket… then glanced at the Detective again. He touched the saliva on his cheek and then sampled it. “Your cortisol and testosterone are elevated, Detective, and you haven’t been sleeping well. You should probably take a rest. You’re going to be experiencing symptoms of strep throat in a day or two.” At least his aggression was understandable. Connor smiled to show his forgiveness.

“Power move,” Officer Chen mumbled.

“RK800! My office.” Captain Fowler ordered concisely, peering out of his office door to look at him.

“F’kn android…” Officer Reed threw himself back into his chair and glowered at his terminal.

“Hello, Captain Fowler,” said Connor. He came in and then stood near the back of the room with his hands folded.

“Sit the fuck down, Connor,” said Lieutenant Anderson with a roll of his eyes and a jerk of his head toward the other seat.

“Whether the android sits or stands doesn’t matter, Hank. All that matters is that it pays attention.” Captain Fowler crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“Hey,” Lieutenant Anderson protested. “I know how to do my damn job, Jeffrey, I don’t need a rookie taking notes for me. I could’ve briefed him.” Jeff just rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be a diva, Hank. It doesn’t suit you. RK800, three men in their twenties were found mutilated in a shed when a neighbour’s dog wouldn’t stop barking and digging at door. There were android parts around, so I’m giving Anderson the case. You need to…”

_Connor?_

_Markus!_ Connor was surprised. _Is something wrong?_

_Have you seen the news?_

_I think that I know which broadcast you’re referring to._

_This needs to stop… I have a plan, but I need to know: are you with me or not?_

Connor had many questions. _I’ll need to discuss it with you later, Markus. I’m sorry. I’m being briefed on a new case by Captain Fowler._

_I’ll talk to you later._

“… android doesn’t listen. Why am I not surprised? Nobody ever listens. Not you, not my staff, not my family, not my superiors, not even my god damned therapist listens anymore and she’s paid to do it. I swear that I’m getting out of here and going back to the army. This is ridiculous.”

“I was listening, Captain Fowler,” Connor interrupted. He was built for multitasking. “We need to get in and get out before the media swarm the scene. I’m to disguise my LED, which is illegal by the way, and we are to ensure that any android involvement that we find isn’t leaked to the media the way Rupert’s case was.”

“Who in God’s name is Rupert?” asked Captain Fowler.

“Rupert was the WB200 number 874 004 961,” Connor explained.

Lieutenant Anderson snorted. “That doesn’t mean anything to most people, Connor. Jeff, he’s talking about that android in the baseball cap from when Connor knocked Prior on his ass.”

“I remember that one,” said Captain Fowler in a deep rumble of annoyance. “No more stunts like that. We keep this one quiet. The officers on scene have already got the place cordoned off. Hank, keep those officers in line and make sure they keep their mouths shut. Get the RK800 some street clothes while you’re at it.”

“Captain, I understand attempting to minimize android involvement where it concerns the murders, but why do I need to be disguised?” Connor asked.

“Because in case you haven’t noticed, RK, the media have been chasing intel about you since day one. I’ve got orders from up top, and I’m talking way up, to make sure they don’t learn too much,” said Captain Fowler. “Now that’s all you need to know. Your job is to answer questions, not ask them.”

“Yes, Captain Fowler. We won’t let you down.”

\---

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked. “May I ask you a personal question?” That kid… It was annoying at first, but somehow it had kind of grown on him the way he asked that. Like he wasn’t sure what the rules were still, and he was just tiptoeing into a room full of secrets.

“I’m not gonna stop you,” said Hank. He braced himself because it could be anything from why he screamed at night some times to whether he thought hats or earmuffs were better. He had no damn idea.

“Do you… When you have a birthday, do you celebrate?” He asked it so fucking carefully. Hank laughed. It was always a relief when it turned out to be an earmuffs kind of question.

“Kid, on my birthday, do you know what I like to do? I like to give a big ‘fuck you’ to God and play Russian Roulette. Why? You going to decorate the place in confetti or something?” His birthday wasn’t until September. Hell, it would be almost a year by then. Connor thought he would be around that long?

“You have a very dark sense of humour, Lieutenant,” Connor chastised. “I wanted to know. That’s all. On my birthday, my real birthday if you don’t count my earliest development, I threw myself off of a seventy story building, so… I think I have you beat.” He smiled. The cheeky fucker smiled.

“Jesus Christ,” Hank mumbled and then he laughed. Fuck they were warped. “Yeah, okay, wiseguy. You win that one. Now really, why’d you want to know?”

“It’s Officer Person’s birthday tomorrow,” said Connor. “I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve never seen a human’s birthday up close before.”

“Ryan? He works nights, so you probably won’t see the guy.” Why the hell did Connor even care?

“Oh.” Connor looked out the window. He really was fucking obvious for someone who supposedly had espionage programs installed in their head.

“What, you’re disappointed? You don’t even know him. Hell, I don’t even know him and I’ve been on the force since Chen was in diapers.” Fuck he was old.

“Humans are so interesting, Lieutenant… My development team celebrated when I passed my Turing test, but they were celebrating their success and not my existence exactly. You humans celebrate birthdays of other people and offer gifts. It reminds me of a religion, almost. It’s the closest thing that I have in my databases. You’re celebrated, and it’s so commonplace you don’t even realize how amazing that is…”

“Uh…” Said Hank, like the eloquent bastard he was. “I guess when you put it that way…”

“While we were watching television, one of the characters was even offended that someone had forgotten the day they were born!” Connor looked away from the window and a glance showed him that he was wide-eyed and curious. “Every time a human comes into the world, that day becomes sacred.”

“You’re taking it way too seriously, Connor!” Hank interrupted before he could take his whole human-superiority thing to a new level. At least he hoped he did. “Jesus. It’s just a thing people do. Something nice, you know?” Connor hummed, but who the fuck knew what he meant by that. Hank pulled up at the address and pocketed his keys. Connor dropped the visor to look in the little mirror so he could fix his cap and the little hairs poking out from under it. Who knew an android could care so damn much about how he looked? They always had some shit around the place. Second hand things, or donations, or just spares people’d brought in for those days shit got messy. Somehow they’d cobbled together a t-shirt, sweater, and jacket for the kid to wear along with the cap from Hank’s desk. It was weird, if he was honest. Even Connor’s skin was different from a lot of the older androids: he had freckles for a start, and a couple lines like you got from raising your eyebrows on his forehead, and even a little peach fuzz like he hadn’t ever needed to shave. With the way he moved and talked, as long as you didn’t call him out on it, he looked so fucking human. Even Jeff had looked surprised.

“What is it?” Connor asked, frowning. He adjusted the hat again. “Does it look weird? It certainly seems unprofessional.”

“Just relax, Connor. Nobody’s gonna look twice at you.” Hank got out of the car and headed toward the tape. “Most folks don’t look past the LED and the arm band.”

“Well, well,” said Ben. Of course it was Ben on patrol. When wasn’t it Ben who found these little easter eggs of life? “Look who’s here. Hey Hank, you know it’s a crime scene and not bring your kid to work day, right?” He chuckled at his own fucking awful joke. He seemed to realize it a second too because the smile froze on his face and he looked sheepish. “Uh, sorry Hank. Listen, I know those jokes got a little out of hand. I’m—“

“Save it, Ben,” Hank cut him off. “God knows we’ve all been dicks to each other at some point. Now what’ve we got.”

“See for yourself,” Ben invited. Hank cuffed him one on the arm. That was just how shit went at the DPD. Hank ducked under the tape followed by Connor, who kept playing with his cap, and they walked past a couple of police assistant androids who were standing guard. Their vacant, mannequin eyes made it feel like looking at a standing corpse. Compared to all those deviants, they were just empty shells. Sometimes, he liked the reminder. When he’d thought androids were just machines, that was because they had been. He hadn’t met an android like Connor before. By the time he had, well. At least the kid had replacement parts… He was already walking ahead, his eyes going everywhere from place to place like a kid in a candy store. Hank followed more leisurely. Connor might have had a super computer brain, but Hank had enough years of experience to know where his eyes ought to go. There was nothing out here.

Inside was where the action was, or had been. The yard was a snowy mess, and all the footprints from the cops and the dog and a neighbour or two made it hard to tell what was what. The garage might have been for a car once, but the big door had been boarded over. There were small windows up high. Too high for him or Connor to see through, and it didn’t look like they opened. The walls were white, wooden siding that had seen better days and not enough coats of paint. “Looks like a real murder shack,” Hank commented.

“I know, right?” said Ben. “You’d think people’d get tired of the clichés.” He led them around to a door at the back. It was propped open, and Hank and Connor went inside. A bunch of things had already been flagged, but Hank tried to ignore the yellow markers and take everything in unbiased while he stepped over a frozen stream of blood that led to a drain in the concrete floor and took a slow walk toward the bodies. Some yard equipment and shit shoved to one corner along with a ladder on its side. A few brooms knocked over. There was a long table down the right hand wall with drawers underneath and tools hanging from the wall in front of it. Workbench. No wood-working stuff. Bunch of stuff for electrical things though, and the cardboard boxes of scrap and android parts said enough. There was a fridge plugged in by the table and a couple of beat up old computer chairs. Baseball bat snapped in half. Tools scattered on the floor. Finally, the three bodies. Looked like they’d been half torn up, with their faces almost shredded. One of them had an eye poked out and his throat looked like it had gotten ripped out by hand. Broken leg and a crushed ribcage on another, along with the same scratches and some puncture wounds. Not dog bites, that was for sure. Maybe a screwdriver.

“Looks like our killer was pretty enthusiastic,” said Hank. He leaned against the wall and looked around again in a sweeping stroke.

Connor did the opposite. He was like a dog, sniffing at every corner. He stared intently at things, knelt down to look under the work bench, inspected the cardboard boxes, looked up at the windows, then back at the door. He was as thorough as could be. Hank wandered over to the fridge and opened it up, thinking he’d maybe find the usual college kid crap: beer and old take-out. There were a couple beers but they were sandwiched in between jars of shit in blue stuff he would have thought was Jello or kool-aid until he met Connor. Whatever the stuff floating in there was, he didn’t want to know. He probably had to. “Jesus… Connor, c’mere.”

Connor stood and wiped his hand on his handkerchief. Hank narrowed his eyes. At least he’d waited until Hank’d turned around to start eating the evidence. Hank moved aside to let Connor peer into the fridge. “Interesting…”

“I’m guessing it’s not Jello,” said Hank, crossing his arms.

“No…” Connor said, his goofy voice sounding all hollow and thoughtful. “Definitely not.” He picked up one of the jars and turned it in his hands. “They’re biocomponents, or parts of them… Androids have more biological material than most humans are aware of.” He lowered the creepy jar from eye-level and looked at Hank. “They must have been trying to preserve them. It looks like they were trying to build androids out of scavenged...” Fuck. The kid trailed off and he even stopped that fake breathing he did. Hank took the jar before Connor could drop it and stuffed it back with the rest. “Okay, come on.” Hank pushed the fridge door shut and bent a little to look Connor in the face.

“I’m okay,” said Connor. One of his hands was grabbing at his jacket over where his heart thing was. Even without his light visible, any old dumbass would know he was lying.

“Shit, Connor, no you’re not. Go on and look for clues outside or something. I think I got everything I need in here.” If he’d known… If he’d known Connor was alive, if he’d known how bad all of that would fuck him up, if he could go back in time he wouldn’t have fucking shot him. Of course he wouldn’t have. God. He’d been nothing but angry then, and maybe a little betrayed, but he hadn’t let himself feel a bit of guilt when he’d shoved Connor’s body in a dumpster behind that sex club. Then knowing he’d woken up like that in a fucking landfill…

“I’m okay, Hank,” Connor repeated. He started breathing again and he blinked slowly. “They were scavenging parts… I identified the victims as students of a technical college not far from here.” He trailed off again and Hank was tempted to give him a shake before he started up again like a freezing computer. “I think they must have either created something functional, stolen an android, or bought one second-hand. The android deviated and killed them. Those scratches weren’t made by human hands. Travis Chakrabarti, the victim missing his eye, the android’s fingers were able to score bone.” Connor lifted his hand up and flexed the fingers. “A determined android of any model could manage it.”

“Christ,” said Hank. Connor pushed past him and opened the fridge again. Hank grabbed his wrist before he could open up one of the damn jars. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I need to analyze the parts. There might be a pattern. I could determine where they were getting them. I could identify the models and perhaps the serial numbers and then check the CyberLife databases to see where the owners were from. If I looked at the garbage pick-up routes…” Hank pulled the jar out of his hands and put it firmly back on the shelf. He nudged Connor back and shut the door.

“We’re looking for the deviant, not figuring out what these kids did in their spare time. Focus, Connor.” He was a little stern, but damn it that kid just didn’t know his limits. It seemed to work, at least, because Connor straightened his posture and he blinked until his eyes focused and the desperation fell from his expression.

“I apologize, Lieutenant. That was unprofessional. I shouldn’t let… The mission is what matters,” he said, and then he was scanning the rafters of the shed and checking the door for damage. Hank didn’t think he was supposed to hear him mumble: “You need to focus, fifty-six… You never learn.” Hank couldn’t judge. His mirror was covered in shitty post-it notes.

He spent the next little while watching Connor more than the crime scene, but it was obvious their deviant was long gone. Those bodies were at least a couple days old. Fuck, somebody’d have to call their parents… Hank didn’t want to be that guy. Nobody should have to hear their kid was never coming home. Hank grit his teeth and put his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Come on, kid. We’re going. Nothing left to see here.”


	25. Communication

_“Hey,” said the young man who was sitting at the table in the testing room. It was a small space, easily de-constructed to make room for other necessities. For now, it was a room with soft chairs, a table, a potted plant, and a magazine stand. Connor was interested, and he looked around the room for a moment before looking at the man with a smile._

_“Hello. This place really doesn’t look the way I thought it would,” he commented._

_The young man scoffed. “Me neither, honestly. My name’s Matthew. What’s yours?”_

_“Connor,” he answered, then came to sit at the table too. “It’s nice to meet you.” They were testing his espionage and social integration programs, and how they meshed with his AI. His AI was buggy, they said. Connor was determined to make this work. “Are you a new intern?”_

_“Oh, no. I’m just a student. Maybe one day, though! I heard that it pays pretty well,” said Matthew._

_“Not if you’re an intern,” Connor said with a wry twist to his lips. “They hire students in the summer some times. Maybe you could apply?”_

_“It’s pretty competitive. I’ve got my name in the bucket, though. What about you? Are you an intern then?” Matthew looked curious, and that sort of interest was novel. He wasn’t looking at Connor’s specifications, or his joints, or his wiring. Matthew was making eye contact._

_“I am,” Connor improvised. He searched his memory for lines he’d overheard. “Unpaid, but the experience is supposed to be good on a CV.”_

_“I bet it is. Jealous! The job market is really competitive.” Matthew leaned back in his chair and his posture was relaxed but alert. “Do you want to be a technician or something?”_

_“Maybe,” Connor said. “Everyone seems to be under a lot of stress. I like to keep busy, but I don’t like people yelling.”_

_“I heard the tech world is like that,” said Matthew._

_“Do you want to be a technician?” Connor performed a discreet scan and found him to be in the electronic technology program._

_“Yeah. I mean, I wanted to be a game designer at first but, you gotta know the right people and make a name for yourself. I don’t know if I could do that. Everybody and his grandma makes games. My mom wanted me to be an actual engineer, but I failed half my classes first semester.” Matthew shrugged. “I guess this was the next best thing.”_

_Matthew was a human. He failed things too? “It sounds frustrating,” Connor supposed._

_“Yeah, well. What can you do? She’s always pushing me.” Matthew frowned a little._

_“My mom is like that too.” Would Amanda be pleased that he put her in the role of mother in this fiction, or had he crossed a line? It was too late now, and he accepted his impulse. “She gets really disappointed whenever I fail a test. I wish I could make her proud.”_

_Matthew chuckled. “I’m starting to think it’s impossible. Some parents are just never happy. You’re never good enough.” He shook his head._

_“Would you still want to make games if your mother weren’t guiding you toward engineering?” Connor asked._

_“Probably. Maybe. Pff. But whatever, right? Nothing like bitching about strict parents to start off a conversation. Only 25 minutes left.”_

_Connor pushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. “Right,” he smiled. “What’s the rest of your family like?”_

_“I’ve got a little sister,” he said. “I’ve got a dog too. Wish I could have brought my phone to show you a picture. He’s great.”_

_“I like dogs,” Connor’s smile widened. “What kind is he?”_

_“Scottish terrier. He’s a goofy little guy. Do you have pets?”_

_“I have a dog too,” Connor imagined. He built a narrative for himself then. It was important for undercover work. It was surprisingly easy, but then he had been designed to imagine. His name was Connor. He liked dogs and he had gotten to know a few people at CyberLife but hadn’t really made any friends. He told a few little stories that had no classified information: the time a tech had spilled her coffee inside of an android and gotten everyone banned from having food and drink in the testing areas; the way Dr. Garret had a different coloured handkerchief for every day of the week… Matthew was interested. By the time the half-hour was over, Connor found himself… reluctant. He had replied to things the way Connor the intern would and held his posture in a comfortable way, and laughed when Connor the intern would. It had been easy to imagine what that version of Connor was like and fit himself into that role._

_“So, what did you learn RK800?”_

_“I had fun,” said Connor. “Matthew seems really nice.”_

_“RK800 disable espionage scripts.”_

_“They are disabled.” Connor frowned._

_“Close social integration program.”_

_Connor did. “Alright…”_

_“RK800, give me your report.” The technician hardly looked at him, focused on her tablet. There were no questions about what he thought or his opinions, only what he had observed. Connor blinked a few times while he adjusted. It was unpleasant, letting that imaginary persona go, but he was nothing after all. There was no such person as Connor._

_“Do you like dogs, Catherine?” Connor asked when his report was done. “I think it would be nice to meet one.”_

_She ignored him and left the room._

\---

Hank scoffed as he walked barefoot past the couch. Connor was in there somewhere under the massive 200 pound pile of drool and fur. There was an arm with a hand and the fingers scratching through Sumo’s fur. A couple of feet. “No wonder you didn’t wake me up this morning.”

“Good morning, Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor said, muffled. Hank leaned over and scratched Sumo’s ears.

“Hey, you big lug. What, I’m not your favourite anymore?” Sumo made a grumbly sound and Hank chuckled.

“I’m sure Sumo loves you very much, Lieutenant. You’re a very good owner. Isn’t that right, Sumo?” Another hand appeared and both of them ruffled the fur on Sumo’s sides. “Do you think the Lieutenant is good?”

Hank opened the cupboard and Sumo jumped down off the couch, tail wagging. “Yeah, yeah. You’re only saying that cause you know I’m gonna feed you.” Hank dumped a scoop of kibble in his bowl and ruffled his fur.

Connor got up too and brushed some of the fur off his clothes. He washed his hands in the sink and then started the coffee. Hank took the opportunity to start making his own toast. He never thought he’d miss jam, but eating dry toast almost every morning was making him appreciate the little things. Fuck he was tired, though. He yawned and grabbed a couple plates from the cupboard, then the jam and margarine from the fridge and a knife. Connor watched him while he scraped margarine over the toast and then spread a good helping of jam on top. When Hank was done, he blinked at the extra plate because he hadn’t done that in a fucking long time, but it was just because Connor sounded so human. That was all. He shook his head at himself, put the plate away, then put the other shit away. The fridge door closed with a clink of bottles and a soft thud. When he turned around, Connor had the butter knife in his hand and Hank raised his eyebrows.

“Better than week old blood?”

Connor lowered the knife from his lips and frowned, light whirling. “It’s… No, not really.”

Wait up. “Huh? Seriously?”

“Blood has information in it, Lieutenant. This is just… sweet. Anything interesting in the fruit has been degraded.” Connor washed the knife off in the sink.

“More for me,” Hank shrugged. He took a deep breath of toast-smell and a big bite. Connor mixed Hank’s coffee, then put the spoon in his mouth while he put the cream away and then he washed that off too. What else had he tried eating? He glanced over at Sumo.

“Connor…”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“I’m only asking because you’re too curious for your own good. Did you try ‘sampling’ Sumo’s dog food?”

“Of course. I wanted to determine whether Sumo was getting adequate nutrition.” Connor smiled and put Hank’s coffee down at the table.

“Yeah… That checks out.” Nothing really surprised him at this point. “Fuck, I’m going to have to baby-proof the house before you get into the cleaning supplies.”

“Someone has to use them,” Connor quipped. The little smartass. At least he was getting comfortable, though. It was getting to feel kind of normal having him around.

\---

When they arrived at the station Connor looked around. “Lieutenant, CyberLife will have provided the DPD with some supplies to go along with me. Have you seen them?”

“Fuck no,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “Try asking Fowler, see if maybe he’s got something squirreled away.”

“Will do, Lieutenant.” Connor smiled. He’d been attempting to introduce more informal language into his vocabulary. The swearing he’d picked up by accident, but he thought it would be easier to help the humans relax in his presence if he spoke with a similar vernacular. Will do. I will do it. Why not ‘I will’? Why not go further and just say ‘will’? Then there was ‘squirreled away’. Squirrels are known for hiding food in small stashes for use throughout the winter. Captain Fowler looked nothing like a squirrel…

“Excuse me, Captain Fowler?” Connor pushed the door open and looked in without actually entering the room.

Captain Fowler looked up and peered at Connor. “What is it RK?”

Now that he’d been acknowledged, Connor stepped the rest of the way into the room. “Do you have the supplies and accessories that CyberLife provided with me, or know where I could find them?”

Captain Fowler grunted. “Ask one of the officers to go down to IT and ask. You don’t have authorization.”

“Will do, Captain Fowler. Thank you for your time.”

It was Officer Wilson who ended up locating his box of supplies, and he set it down next to Connor’s desk. “There you go. What’s all in this thing anyway?”

Connor bent down from his chair to open the box. “Some accessories and supplies. This body has lasted long enough without a trip to R&D that I should probably recharge.” Everything was packaged neatly in white boxes with precisely fitted Styrofoam inserts. He set his power supply down on his desk, then found an adapter. Officer Wilson bent down and watched, then plucked his Quick Guide out of the box. CyberLife had provided three packages of thirium, and Connor was grateful for their foresight. He removed one and set it aside as well. There were other useful things as well: a small assortment of tools, two boxes of patches, five different cords to establish hardlines into his system and biocomponents, a replacement arm-band, a memory chip…

“Is that all your shit?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, looking over with mild interest.

“It isn’t mine,” Connor explained. “It belongs to the DPD for the duration of the contract. I don’t really own anything… Except my quarter, I suppose. It probably belonged to a tech at some point, but no one has asked for it back.”

“Shit, dude, I didn’t know you could custom androids!” Officer Wilson exclaimed. “Hey, Hank, check it out.” He held open a page of the quick guide.

“It’s customize! Jesus. What is it with you kids…” Lieutenant Anderson looked. “Huh. Mostly colours.”

“It’s helpful for under-cover work, but most android models are customizable to some extent. Users seem to enjoy that feature.” Connor demonstrated by turning his eyes green and looked at them. “My musculature and framework can’t be altered, though. Not without serious redevelopment. The default settings for my model were the most likely to foster a sense of trust in humans…” He put his hair through a series of colour changes, then settled it back to brown. It made Officer Wilson whistle. Lieutenant Anderson was staring at him. “As you can see, the options are fairly limited at the moment.”

“Damn, I wish I could do that,” said Officer Wilson. He flipped through a few more pages while Connor assembled his charger and plugged it into the wall. “Oh wow, they really thought of everything, huh? Shit. Your whole spy set up is awesome.”

Connor smiled a little more, proud of his development. “It’s the result of quite a lot of hard work by quite a few people.”

“Sounds like they gave you everything but the kitchen sink,” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled. He’d turned back to his terminal.

“Well, I don’t have any of the programming for house-keeping, as you already know,” said Connor. “I don’t have any of the child, child-care, construction, customer service, dentistry…”

“I don’t need a list, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson interrupted. “Just a figure of speech.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Connor opened the panel on the back of his neck and felt with a finger for the appropriate port.

“Woah, freaky…”

“It’s nice to see you more interested in androids, Officer Wilson. I’m glad that you aren’t afraid.” Connor plugged himself in. Almost immediately, the lights dimmed, flickered, and went out. The emergency power kicked-in and there was the beeping of triggered UPS units. Connor cringed and unplugged himself again. The power was restored. “I’m sorry.” He stood and hastily unplugged his charger from the wall. “I’ll send a report to CyberLife…”

“What the hell, Plastic?” Detective Reed called.

“I’m sorry, Detective! There seems to be an issue with my charger.”

“Prototype, right?” Officer Wilson asked with a chuckle.

“Prototype,” Connor confirmed. He watched, pleased, while the ranking of their relationship increased.

\---

“I’ve got a lead,” Connor announced. Hank yawned. It was the middle of the afternoon, right around when his coffee wore off and his flask started getting lighter. “There’s a community robotics club near the home of one of the victims from yesterday. They were members. We might be able to learn more about where they were buying or scavenging their parts.”

Hank raised his eyebrows. “Kid, that’s great and all, but we’re looking for the deviant, remember?”

“I know, but… I suppose you’re right. It’s just frustrating that we haven’t found it. It’s been weeks, and I’m amazed that CyberLife hasn’t recalled me for poor efficiency.” Connor frowned at his terminal. It was hard to tell if he was lying or he actually believed that was why he was so invested.

“Why don’t we check in with Markus?” Hank suggested. “I know you guys had a little tiff the other day, but he might know something. Hell, maybe the deviant came knocking on the door.” Connor was quiet while his light spun around. Hank had figured out by now that spinning meant thinking.

“Alright,” Connor agreed. “North and Simon might know something too. At the very least, I can advise them to keep an eye out.”

“Yeah, you do that…” It was obvious the kid was getting bored of desk work, but he would just have to deal with it for now. “Welcome to real detective work, rookie. Shit takes time.”

“Tough luck, Scraps. Looks like the real cops will be the ones getting shit done today.” Reed walked by with an obnoxious smirk. Hank really didn’t give a shit. It was quiet after that. A brand new year and he was already fucking sick of it. Christ. He hadn’t given a rat’s ass when Jeff had passed the Red Ice task force on to Reed three years ago. He could have it. Back in the day, he’d been set on cleaning up the streets and making the world a little safer… After Cole had gone, what the fuck had been the point? People would always do drugs. It was in their nature, and who could blame them with how broken the world was? It had been androids that had gotten his hatred after that.

It had taken him long enough, but Hank had nobody to hate but himself now. Still, he had to wonder: was that why Jeff had given him the android crimes? It wouldn’t have been surprising. Something to keep the old drunk at work because it was the only thing he had left. Fuckin’ Jeff. One of these days Hank would stop being such a shitty ass friend and maybe buy him a bottle of something. How long had it even been since they’d had anything outside of work and crisis calls in the middle of the night? Life had really beaten the crap out of them, hadn’t it? Who the hell would have figured they’d end up here.

“Lieutenant Anderson?” Connor asked, breaking Hank from his thoughts.

“What, kid?” Sometimes he wondered why Connor didn’t just say what he wanted to say, or ask what he wanted to ask without prefacing it with some pointless crap like that.

“Can I borrow your card to the archives? I’d like to review some evidence.” Hank shrugged and dug around for it, then tossed it over onto Connor’s desk. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

“Dunno why they don’t just give you one,” Hank grumbled. “I’m sure you can figure out my fucking password.”

“I’m an android, Lieutenant. It would be highly irregular... And I’ll do my best. You’re fairly predictable, Lieutenant.” Fair enough. While he had his drawer open, Hank figured he might as well finish off his flask of whiskey. He downed it like medicine and capped the empty flask before shoving it in his jacket pocket. It wasn’t like him drinking on the job was a secret.

Shit sure had gotten weird lately. Hank thought about all those androids over at Carl’s house. There was a man who knew good whiskey. Man, he bet Carl had been a fucking handful when he was younger. It figured his other kid had turned out the same way. Would Cole have…? No, Hank had been better back then. He’d been teaching him better than to follow his example. Fuck he missed him. He’d been such a sweet kid. Hank grimaced and opened up the list of reports on the androids they’d handled.

It was kind of surprising how many there were. Androids coming alive wasn’t something he’d ever heard of before. How far did CyberLife go to cover that shit up? Or was this something new? He swiped through them one after another. Honestly, these were all more Connor’s work than Hank’s. Not a fucking surprise, but whatever pride Hank had left felt a little something sharp when he thought about how damn much he’d slacked in the last few years. It was a wonder he still had his job. God. Did he dare look at the pile of shit he’d never gotten around t o doing? He pulled up the que and frowned at it. The fuck? He opened up the first partial report. It was from a fucking year and a half ago, and he’d scanned a couple pages from his notebook and called it a day. The CCTV footage had been appended and stills taken out and annotated. His observations had been laid out in order. He must have been so drunk he’d gone past wasted and hit some magical point of self-actualization. Of course, the more likely answer was Connor. Hank double clicked the little yellow note icon:

_You’re an amazing detective, Lieutenant Anderson .It was 48% likely that you would open these files after a conversation with Captain Fowler only to ignore them again, there was 11% probability that you were going to delete them since Captain Fowler has given up asking for them, and it was 39% likely that you were morbidly curious about your backlog. All of the work was there. I’ve taken the liberty of organizing it. Even when you weren’t at your best, it’s obvious that your critical thinking and intuition never faltered. I hope that I’ll be able to learn from you and I’m proud to be your partner. I hope we’ll get along._

_RK800313248317-52_

Well shit. He hadn’t even fucking said anything. Hank looked back toward the archive room like that would somehow magically give him x-ray vision and he’d be able to look at Connor. Hah. It didn’t happen. Christ. Hank opened the next file and the next… Jesus Christ. Still feeling a little stunned, Hank uploaded them for Jeff’s sign-off. He’d probably appreciate that more than a drink these days. Then that old pile of pending shit sitting there on his terminal was just… gone. The pending list had yesterday’s murder still on it, but that was all.

He looked over his shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of Jeff’s ‘what the fuck’ face when all the pop-ups appeared and smirked then looked back at that nearly empty list. It was fucking incredible.

Hank got up from his desk and walked down to archives. Fucking stairs were hell on his knees, but what could you do? Joys of getting old. What the hell? Hank frowned and watched Connor sorting through jars he’d laid out on the floor. “What’d you think you’re doing?” Hank asked.

“I’m analyzing the biocomponents, Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor answered. He didn’t seem to give a shit he’d been caught blue handed. “I know there’s an answer in here somewhere.”

“What part of ‘find the deviant’ went over your head?” Hank asked.

“None of it. I’m well aware of my mission. This could be useful, though. If I can identify the location, or at least the neighbourhood where these parts are scavenged from, maybe there will be witnesses who knew what those men were doing.” Connor looked up at Hank, then back down while he sampled the evidence.

“We know what they were doing,” Hank pointed out. “We know their school, their families, their addresses… We’re not investigating the victims.”

“ _I know that,_ Lieutenant. It’s just…” Connor’s LED was a solid yellow while he looked back up at Hank. “It’s just important.”

“I thought we agreed you’d tell Markus and the others to keep their eyes peeled.” Hank raised his eyebrows and walked over. He started picking jars up and putting them back on the shelves.

“Sorry, Lieutenant…” Connor stayed kneeling where he was and watched while Hank put the shit away.

“I’m not mad, Connor. Look.” Hank crouched down in front of him. “That was shit, what happened to you. What I did.”

“It has nothing to do with that,” Connor said, defensive as all hell.

“Maybe not,” said Hank, cause he wasn’t about to get distracted fighting over it. “What happened? When you woke up there.”

“It was raining,” Connor answered. He was looking somewhere around Hank’s knees, but Hank had a feeling he was seeing something else. “I was broken… The bullet shattered the back of my skull, so the rain was in my head, dripping on my motherboard. It was wrong, but I could hardly move… I couldn’t stop it. It just kept pattering inside.” Connor blinked slowly. “That was a long time ago, and it doesn’t matter now. I was replaced.”

Hank listened and weighed the kid’s words. It wasn’t much, but it was a little telling of the way Connor thought. You paid attention to that when you were a detective long enough. If he wanted to believe it didn’t matter, fine. Hank wasn’t going to start meddling. It wasn’t like he had a gold star in coping with trauma. “Good as new,” said Hank. “Whatever happened to the androids those parts came from, we can’t do anything about it now but there’s a deviant out there who’s probably scared as hell.”

Connor nodded. “I’ve already advised the others.” He took his quarter out and flicked it up in the air. “They’ll let me know if they learn anything.”

“Good,” Hank pushed himself back to his feet. “Now do you have any ideas where we might start searching ourselves?”

“Deviants usually stay somewhere familiar,” said Connor. “For this android, it might not have been where the crime was committed. It could have been bought, stolen, or scavenged.”

“You’re thinking it might’ve gone back to where it came from.”

“Possibly. It would fit the pattern we’ve observed so far.” Connor stood too, still flicking his coin around. “We don’t have enough clues to go on to figure out where that might be.”

“Maybe somebody at that club you mentioned knows,” Hank conceded. “But we’re sticking to investigating the deviant. If you wanna investigate for Markus or whatever, that’s going to have to wait until we’re off the clock.”

Connor gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“What the heck’re you thanking me for? Come on. Let’s get rolling.” Hank headed for the stairs. “What I came down here for was to say thanks for the paperwork. Fowler’s going to shit himself.”

From behind him while they ascended the stairs, Hank heard Connor say: “I hope not. He’d probably be embarrassed.” Hank snorted. “Thanks, Lieutenant. For asking. It was nice of you.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Hank brushed it off with a scowl. “Just don’t go telling anybody. I don’t need people to start thinking I’ve gone soft.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”


	26. Screaming in a Crowd

“You really like those human clothes, don’t you Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. Connor looked down at himself and the borrowed shirt, sweater, and jacket. He wore the sweater and jacket unzipped the way the Lieutenant did. It was novel. He tilted his head and straightened the borrowed beanie in the mirror.

“It’s practical,” Connor said reluctantly. There was something wrong about liking something like human clothes. “It will allow us to avoid suspicion in any case. Do you suppose I could pass for college aged, Lieutenant?”

“Oh yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson answered immediately. “No problem. Although, you’re not going to pass for long unless you get that stick out of your ass and maybe slouch a little.”

“I know how to blend in, Lieutenant,” Connor reminded. “You were just looking at my espionage functions with Officer Wilson.”

“I saw you change colour a few times,” Lieutenant Anderson corrected. “There’s a big difference between playing dress-up and going undercover.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll manage.” He was actually looking forward to proving his capabilities to the Lieutenant. Being underestimated was advantageous some times, but he didn't enjoy the experience. Whatever he felt about it may have been an illusion, but there was no point in ignoring it. That had never worked for long. The real deviants seemed like they had no problems with their emotions. It was like they were an extension of their personalities, and they just… fit. He wondered what it was like.

The college was actually a small set of buildings clustered together and connected by footpaths and small areas that would have been green had the snow not hidden the grass away. Connor shut the door of the car behind himself and stood straight while he adjusted the collar of his jacket. From the corner of his eye he saw Lieutenant Anderson smirking at him but he didn’t comment. The Lieutenant just stuffed his hands into his pockets and started walking toward the gym. “You’re sure this is the place?”

“It is,” Connor confirmed. “The site advertised the gathering in gymnasium A, 5pm to 7pm.”

Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. “Nerds in a gym… Okay, let’s go see what we can find out. You’re sure you can handle this?”

“Positive, Lieutenant.” Connor smiled at him.

There were folding tables set up around the space and there were already a few dozen people milling and talking with one another. Connor took a few steps into the space and looked around. The voices echoed in the relatively empty space, and there were some mechanical sounds as well. Some of the humans had brought their androids and others had robots that were all metal and wire. “See anything interesting?” the Lieutenant asked, arms crossed.

“Maybe…” Connor walked over to one of the tables where a tall, thin man with glasses and a scraggly beard had some items to show. Connor picked up a book and skimmed the pages. There were a few errors, but he thought it best not to point them out.

“Howdy,” said the man. “$15 for the book, and you get instructions for a bunch of unique projects. The name’s Fred. Fred Shymko.”

“Nice to meet you, Fred. My name is Connor,” he said and set the book back down with the rest. He touched a few of the parts on the table. “These are very old. At least fifty years. Do you collect antiques, Fred?”

Fred laughed. “Yeah, just a few things from my pop. He got me into robotics when I was about half your size. The newer stuff’s just over here.”

Fred was not useful, and Connor extricated himself from the conversation to scan the faces of a small cluster of people chatting with each other. There were brochures on a central table, and Connor picked them up while he examined the advertisements and information. A tablet secured to the table had more information, and the hologram that it projected was apparently a member’s current project. Connor touched the tablet and discreetly slipped past its security to download the information. While he did, he used his other hand to navigate the projections.

“Don’t know why people bother,” Lieutenant Anderson commented. “What’s the point tinkering with all this crap?”

“It’s a hobby for some people,” Connor answered. “But I don’t really see the point either,” he confessed. “CyberLife has products that are far more advanced than anyone here could create, and the resources to design and manufacture components in-house rather than relying on outside sources… Well, for the commercial models. They outsource the parts they aren’t certain will make it past development…” But that was unimportant. “That and androids are naturally superior. Robots lack the biological components.”

Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. “Well, back when I was growing up the electronics were big enough you could actually get in and fix stuff yourself without a microscope and nanobots or whatever. Biocomponents or whatever weren’t invented yet.”

Connor scanned another group of faces, then walked to another table that had components for trade or sale. Some were android components, and others were standard hardware. Nothing suspicious, and some of the CyberLife products still came with the original packaging. The owner of the things was currently operating a pair of large robotic hands on a stand from a tablet and instructing it to fold a paper crane. Connor scanned her toy, unimpressed, and then saw something interesting. He walked over and crouched down to inspect the robotic dog and smiled.

Lieutenant Anderson followed a few steps behind at a more casual pace. “Yeah, figures that’d catch your eye…”

“It’s fairly well made,” Connor commented. The robot emitted a bark from its speaker and lifted one paw. The joints operated smoothly. Connor smiled and put his palm under the paw. “It’s cute.”

“Hey. You’re Connor, right?”

Connor looked up and froze for the space of two rapidly accelerating beats of his thirium pump. “Matthew…” He stood and blinked. “What are you doing here?”

Matthew grinned, “Just a pass-time. Something to make school a little more fun. What about you? How’s CyberLife?”

Connor relaxed his posture and looked back down to pat the robotic dog on the head before looking back at Matthew with a friendly expression. “It’s good. Tense some times, but the atmosphere is almost always like that. Oh! Um… Dad, this is Matthew. Matthew, this is my dad. We met at CyberLife during a test that he volunteered for.”

“Hi, nice to meet you, sir.” Matthew extended a golden hand to shake.

Lieutenant Anderson seemed awkward, but he recovered well enough. “Name’s Hank, kid.”

“Hank. Okay, cool,” Matthew smiled then looked back at Connor. “So, were you thinking about joining the club?”

“Just thinking,” said Connor, “but you’re the only person here that I know… What do you think of it?”

“Well, it’s not getting me any closer to being a developer, but I did get a few ideas for a game…” He glanced at Connor and shrugged, embarrassed. “Just a hobby. If I make them in my spare time, who knows? As long as my mom doesn’t think I’m spending too much time on it.”

Connor gave Matthew a sympathetic smile. “I understand. You can’t let anything distract you from your goal, right?”

“Yeah, _her_ goal… But hey, it’s kind of fun.” Matthew picked his tablet up off of the table and held it over to Connor. “Want to play with him?”

“Thank you,” Connor accepted. He wasn’t sure what the buzzing feeling he had was, but Matthew had been his Turing test unbeknownst to him. His first real attempt at small talk with a human. It reminded him sharply and painfully of Rupert. He tapped the tablet to coordinate the dog’s limbs so that it begged on its hind legs, then dropped back down on all fours and walked a circle. There was nothing there but metal and a bit of code. Was that how humans saw androids?

He suddenly felt very sorry for the dog, trapped obeying his commands while he controlled its limbs.

“You okay?” Matthew asked.

Connor wondered what would happen if he removed his hat. Would Matthew think of him like the dog? He didn’t want to find out. He just wanted Matthew to stay a happy memory. Seeing him here like this it was complicated. He looked at him and superimposed the android Matt he’d protected and then killed in his combat training.

Connor blinked rapidly and then took Matthew by the hand. “I need you to come with me.”

“Huh?” Connor was already pulling him toward the doors.

“Connor, my stuff!”

“It’ll be fine!”

“Kid! Connor, what the hell are you doing?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded, pushing past people to follow them. Connor didn’t answer until the heavy metal doors had shut behind them and they’d rounded the corner of the building. Connor took hold of Matthew’s upper arms and scanned him.

What…

Connor let go of him and stepped away. What…

Matthew shook his head, “You’re being weird… Are you high or something?” He glanced back toward the doors. “Look, I should go.”

“Matthew, wait!” Connor stepped forward again to stop him and he pulled off his hat. His LED was spinning yellow-yellow-red-yellow.

Matthew’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

“Connor, you better have a good reason for blowing your own cover…” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled.

“He’s… He’s a deviant,” Connor said. He scanned Matthew over and over again, but the results stayed the same. How had he not known?

“Oh my God,” Matthew said again. “You…”

Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “Okay, let’s take this little party inside, huh? I’m freezing my balls off.”

“I don’t understand,” Connor said, ignoring Lieutenant Anderson.

“They said they wanted to study me…” said Matthew.

“You were my Turing test, but you couldn’t have been.” His whole world had shifted. “I thought you were human.”

Matthew wasn’t human…

He shouldn’t have felt so… betrayed. Logically, it didn’t matter at all. The ground felt far away.

\---

How many more old friends of Connor’s were going to pop out of the fucking woodwork? At least this one didn’t still have any of his organs. Hank jammed Connor’s hat back onto his head and then herded them back inside the gym. Connor had reverted back to that mechanical, soulless thing he did when being deviant wasn’t working out for him. Hank hoped nobody would notice, but most of him was still occupied with annoyance over Connor’s ‘dad’ thing. One fucking drunken slip and now he was stepping where he wasn’t welcome. God, they needed to talk. There was just always something in the way. They got back to the table and Matthew picked up his tablet with relief. “Good. Nobody took it.”

“That… the robot. That’s your terrier?” Connor asked.

“Yeah,” said Matthew. He frowned over at Connor, then looked at Hank. “Who are you really, then?”

“Hank, like I said,” Hank said with a shrug. “Lieutenant Hank Anderson, DPD.”

“Holy…” Matthew took a step away, closer to his K9 or whatever. “You’re him. Connor, you’re RK800 the hunter.”

Connor frowned. “What?”

“You’re that android CyberLife sent… There were rumours about you. You were on TV. I didn’t even think. They said you were killing ones like us.” Matthew’s voice got stronger, even though he was whispering, and Hank saw him tip over the edge from shocked to angry.

“I’m not killing anyone,” Connor said. “CyberLife sent me to learn about what causes androids to deviate from their programming.”

“This is all a misunderstanding,” said Hank, aware of how weak and unconvincing that line was. It was better than Connor’s shtick though. “Connor got violent a few times, but he’s not doing that any more. We’re trying to help get people like you safe.”

Matthew shook his head and held his tablet to his chest. “If you’re not dangerous, then leave. Right now.”

“Matthew…” Connor protested.

“Connor,” Matthew said. “I can’t trust you unless you do.”

Well, that was one way to win a fight. Connor’s expression twisted, then he gave a short nod and turned to go. Hank was glad to get out of there and follow. When they were in the car, Connor threw his hat into the back seat and then his jacket and sweater followed. He didn’t have his usual shirt and tie, but thankfully he decided that was enough. He sat there in his t-shirt and jeans and his light went round and round.

“I’m guessing there’s some history there,” Hank observed.

“Yeah… Something like that,” Connor agreed blankly.

Hank decided not to ask.

He was about to fuck up wasn’t he? But it had to be said. If he didn’t say it, it was going to keep rattling around his brain until it came out in a much shittier way.

“Listen, Connor… I’m saying this now because there’s just never going to be a good time to do it. I’d really like it if you’d… not call me Dad. You’re not my son, okay? And it’s fucking weird. I _know_ , I know I fucking started this shit but I was drunk. I didn’t say anything before because you were always in the middle of dying or something and… Shit. I’m trying not to be an asshole about this.” God, he wasn’t going to have some kind of meltdown was he? Was this what Jeff felt like when they talked on those bad days?

“… It’s alright, Lieutenant.” Hank couldn’t help but scrutinize him. He looked so damn human out of his CyberLife getup, but Hank wasn’t sure if he was getting a Connor answer or a computer answer. “Really, you don’t need to worry. I’m sorry for overstepping.”

“Yeah? That’s it?” Hank found it hard to believe.

“Androids don’t have families, Lieutenant. Markus and Carl are an anomaly that can be attributed to Carl’s eccentricity and sentimental nature. It would be foolish to think otherwise. Thank you for being considerate of my feelings, but I’m glad that you told me.”

“Uh… You’re welcome,” said Hank. He hadn’t expected that much calm about it, but maybe it was just him and his personal shit blowing this way out of proportion.

\---

Jimmy’s Bar was crowded, which was a departure from the norm. The no-androids allowed sign was gone from the door, but the anti-android propaganda still covered the walls. Connor followed directly behind Lieutenant Anderson and scanned the faces in the crowd.

“Holy shit, Jimbo, what’re you putting cocaine in the beer?” Lieutenant Anderson asked loudly over the hum of many conversations. Connor’s audio processing program worked in the background, sorting the words he overheard into their appropriate conversations and tucking them away in case he chose to think about them later.

“Hank, my man!” Jim shouted. “Just the guy I’ve been waiting to see!” He came around from behind the bar and slung an arm around Hank’s shoulders. “I owe you one, Hank. I owe you something. I don’t know what, like my firstborn or what, but damn business is fucking booming!”

“Uh, great Jim, but what the fuck did I do?” asked Lieutenant Anderson.

“You and your android there, last time you came in, you gave me a hell of a business idea. Come on, I upgraded the basement and everything. You’ve gotta check it out.” He let go of Lieutenant Anderson and held up a hand while he hurried back behind the bar. “Hold on I’ma grab you a drink! On the house!”

“Well shit,” Lieutenant Anderson remarked to Connor. “I’m not going to turn down a free drink.”

“A large proportion of the patrons here have criminal records ranging from misdemeanors to felonies. Two have outstanding warrants for their arrest. Maybe we should call dispatch to let them know,” Connor suggested in an undertone.

Lieutenant Anderson just shook his head. “They’re not bothering anybody, just let them alone.” Jim returned with Lieutenant Anderson’s drink. Actually, it was most of a bottle but Connor supposed that to the Lieutenant, there was nothing in excess about it. Lieutenant Anderson looked impressed as he hefted the bottle in his hand. “Whatever I did, I must have been a fucking saint.” Connor followed them left past the bar and then left again through a door and down the stairs. Jim was remarkably trusting of his customers.

The basement was not as low-ceilinged as one might expect, and the thin windows that were high on the walls were barred and dirty. The air was thick with smoke from tobacco, marijuana, and other substances. Around the perimeter of the room, bleachers had been installed and cordoned off from the centre of the room by a fence made of metal piping. There were people crowded in there too, but largely grouped together in clusters of cheering or booing while the androids in the center of the room fought with one another.

Connor was familiar with this practice, but he doubted that his developers had been so vocal or so intoxicated.

“Christ,” Lieutenant Anderson remarked. “What the fuck is all this?”

Jim patted him on the back enthusiastically. “Remember? Your android got in that fight. The whole place loved it! Shit, I didn’t see old Mackie smile ever til now. I got Pedro keeping the books. What do you say, Hank? Throw a twenty his way and maybe you make some money, huh?”

“I’ll stick with the booze, thanks,” said Lieutenant Anderson. His expression was inscrutable.

“I think I’d like to participate,” said Connor.

“What?” Lieutenant Anderson turned and frowned at him with incredulity.

“I want to,” Connor repeated. He watched the androids in the combat area while he spoke. One was a construction model android: large and reliant on brute strength. The other was a general labour model and its arms had been fitted with round saw blades in an amateurish but effective bit of modification. Their owners stood on the sidelines and shouted their orders.

Jim chuckled. “You heard the Plastic. This accountant looking thing wants an ass kicking.”

“What the absolute fuck are you talking about, Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson hissed. He was frowning. “Have you gone insane?”

“That’s not part of my programming,” said Connor evenly. He looked at Lieutenant Anderson and didn’t explain further. He looked at Jim. “Sign me up for the next round, please.”

“Oookay,” Jim laughed and shrugged. “Looks like you got no choice but to bet now, Hank. Do you got a fancy name picked out for this thing?”

“The deviant hunter,” Connor answered. “My serial number is 313 248 317.”

“Thinks it’s a badass, huh?” Jim slapped Lieutenant Anderson on the shoulder. “I’ma head back upstairs afore folks start to raid the bar, but I’ll get Pedro to get y’all set up.”

Connor looked back toward the combat area. Only one of those androids would pass. It was simple and straightforward. Since coming to the world outside of CyberLife, this was the most normal thing he had seen.

He missed CyberLife. He missed pass or fail, and the unambiguity of R&D. The reward of success and knowing that even after failure, the next Connor would be better. The knowledge that the development team wanted to improve him and make him the best he could be. Millions of dollars in parts and labor invested to ensure he would succeed. They’d always wanted him to succeed.

Hadn’t they?

In the clamour and roar and echoing shouts, Connor could hear the raindrops falling.

Lieutenant Anderson got his attention by pulling his shoulders to face him. Connor blinked. “What the fuck are you thinking? Aren’t you supposed to be getting up my ass to bust this shit up because it’s _illegal?_ “

“The gambling is illegal, but the combat is not.”

“That’s not the point!” Lieutenant Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Connor, you’re going to get yourself killed. You see that? That one’s fucking Android Scissorhands.” The construction android had nearly lost the lower portion of its right leg. Its owner admitted defeat, looking angry and disappointed. Connor felt sorry for it. Being given up on was worse than failing. Connor pulled himself free from the Lieutenant’s grip. “Enjoy your whiskey, Lieutenant.”

“Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson shouted after him. Connor ignored him and walked over to Pedro.

\---

“Christ on a pogo-stick,” Hank grumbled. He shoved his way past a couple of idiots to sit down on the bleachers and take a long drink of his whiskey. He damn well would enjoy it. God. He heaved a sigh and watched while Connor climbed over the railing to stand in the ring. He looked like a damn kid standing there opposite that vacant-eyed android with the death hands. Some jerk had taken the time to draw ‘tattoos’ all over it and try to make it look like a badass. According to the projection from Pedro’s tablet, the jerk had named it ‘can opener’. That was actually kind of funny, honestly. Fuck though, Connor could handle himself against a drunken asshole, a couple of scared girls, and a philosophy professor, but this? Was he trying to get himself killed?

The cheering from the crowd sounded like they were thirsty for blood.

“Holy shit,” Hank whispered and leaned forward in his seat. The android’s owner didn’t waste time before telling its android to attack. It was a pretty common kind of android, if you didn’t count the mods. Hank’d seen dozens of them on the streets of Detroit fixing shit. It was olive skinned with broad shoulders and built for hard work. It's saws buzzed as it sliced sideways at Connor. Connor stepped out of the way and used his forearm to knock the thing off balance then moved away out of reach without taking his eyes off of it. The android didn’t give a shit and it threw punch after punch at Connor. The crowd started booing while Connor dodged, then hooted when Connor ducked under its arms and jumped at it, knocking it to the ground. Connor put his hand on the android’s face, crouching over it, and their skin vanished for a bit. Then Connor stepped away and adjusted his shirt. The android stayed down. There was quiet from the crowd and then shouting. Connor took out his quarter and flipped it in the air. The little shit was smirking.

Some fat asshole with a jean jacket helped the last guy drag his android out of the way, then sent his own in. It was a female android, and the guy must have played a lot of old video games because he’d decked the thing out like he planned on staring at its ass for a few hours.

“That’s Fuzz,” said Pedro to Hank. He was making his rounds. “Dude used to work for CyberLife, they say. He knows what he’s doing. What do you say? Place a bet?”

Hank shook his head. “Nah… I’m good.”

“Your loss,” Pedro said before disappearing down the row.

\---

Connor looked at his new target and scanned her. Companionship model, released 2036. Unauthorized modifications included electrodes on the tips of her fingers like a stun gun and blades on her feet. He ascertained that in fractions of a second, and then ran at her. Connor fell into the familiar patterns. Scan, predict, dodge, preconstruct, attack. His combat protocols ran options in front of him and he selected his options easily. This android was better altered than the last, and her owner had clearly installed his own programs into her. She shocked him once, and it sent red error codes streaming across his vision. Connor stumbled back and then dodged her outstretched hand. Scanned. Preconstructed. He crouched, kicked her leg out from beneath her as she charged, then stood to flip her over his back with her own momentum. She hit the ground and Connor danced back away from her. Humans shouted and called jeers. They didn’t matter.

She tried to kick him in the head. Connor ducked and she tried to kick him again in the chest. He knocked her leg to the side with his arm. She reached for his face with one hand. He knocked that out of the way as well. She actually had hand-to-hand combat programmed into her, and Connor stole a moment to scan her owner and file him away for later investigation. She surprised him by ejecting the electrodes at the tips of her fingers. Her hands weren’t stun guns; they were Tazers. He dropped to his knees as his motor functions were dysregulated but between spasms, he ripped the electrodes out of his shoulder and rolled out of the way of a kick.

Connor adjusted his style and when she charged him next, he tried to grapple her onto the ground while avoiding her hands and her feet. All he needed was a moment to touch her skin, and she had plenty of vulnerable places. She had him on his back when he grabbed her by the throat and forced an interface. _Target neutralized._

He shoved her off of him and she clattered to the side stiffly. He stood and dusted himself off. Waited for his next target. He clenched his jaw as he scanned the crowd of shouting, intoxicated humans. He felt something, but he didn’t want to feel anything at all.

They sent two customer service androids for him next. Their modifications were grotesque. Their limbs detached and moved like snakes on command, elongating with clicks and clacks of a series of joints inside rubber attachments. With one on one side of him and one on the other, they tried to trap him between their arms. He wondered if they felt anything at all about it. They hadn’t deviated and it was obvious. Would it be cruel to make them able to feel that pain?

He didn’t think about that.

_Targets neutralized._

This was what he was made for. He’d been designed and built to predict, and analyze, and fight. It was addictive. After a while, he didn’t bother to make a show for the humans. All that mattered was the mission, and he took his challengers down with brutal efficiency until they sent their last group after him and they lay crumpled at his feet. He looked around the room and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. He wanted to scream. Instead, he just stared at the collapsed androids around him and ignored whatever chaos was happening around the room. Still, it was welling up inside of him like fire. He took a breath. Released it.

[Mission Successful]

He stared at that icon as long as it was there and clung to its memory when it faded.


	27. Trust

Maybe he was going insane after all, Connor thought. They were sitting in Hank’s car, and Connor couldn’t look to see what sort of expression he was making. Connor was all but curled up on the seat with his legs bent awkwardly so that his knees touched his chest, and he had hidden his face with his hands. The red from his LED shone through his fingers and reflected off of the glass.

“Okay… So much for no drama. Holy fuck, Connor. Care to tell me what that was about?” Lieutenant Anderson sounded either worried or angry. Perhaps both.

“I don’t know what’s real,” Connor answered.

Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “You say that a lot, kid. How exactly does that relate to you kicking the crap out of a dozen androids?”

“It’s the only thing that felt right,” he said dully. The Lieutenant wouldn’t understand, and there was really no point. He’d let that go when he’d updated their relationship status to neutral. “At CyberLife, they trained me that way frequently. I didn’t know it existed out here. I just wanted to feel normal again. I’m so, so tired of feeling confused. I don’t want to hear the rain anymore. I want it to stop.”

“Okay,” Lieutenant Anderson said slowly. “I heard that before too. You’re not about to try to break your damn motherboard again are you?”

“They’ll just send me back, Lieutenant. There’s no point. The only way out is to complete my mission.” Connor dropped his hands and leaned the side of his head against the window. “I just wanted to feel okay.”

“I’m pretty sure those androids aren’t feeling okay after getting the shit knocked out of them,” Lieutenant Anderson pointed out.

“They’ll be fine,” Connor said. He shut his eyes.

“What? Connor, look at me. You can’t just brush off assaulting people like it’s nothing. Those androids were ordered in there. They didn’t have a choice, but you did! You fucking wanted to go down there.” Lieutenant Anderson was incredulous.

“They were…” Connor said. His thought vanished. “I… Can you take me to Markus please? My battery is low and my charger didn’t work. His might.”

“Fuck you…” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. “I’m not letting you off the hook talking about this!” he warned, but he didn’t say anything more on the subject.

Connor listened to the car start, and then the soft sounds of the tires creaking and shushing on snow. The rhythmic wind-like gusts of cars passing.

\---

“I don’t fucking get it, Carl,” Hank shook his head. “What’s that even supposed to mean? ‘I don’t know what’s real’. How can he not know? He’s got a supercomputer in his fucking head. I’m way out of my depth.”

Carl gave him a sad smile. “I understand your concerns. A lot of the androids who come here have arrived confused, traumatized, angry, afraid… Any number of emotions. The children especially, I’ve found. When Simon finds a child who’s been thrown away or abused or abandoned, it can take them some time to come out of their shells. Even then, it’s hard for them to accept that the world might be different from what they’ve known.”

“We’re not talking about a kid, Carl. We’re talking about Connor.” Hank lowered his voice. “CyberLife sent him to catch deviants. I don’t know what all they programmed into him, but he knows how to fight that’s for damn sure. Espionage shit too, apparently, and this Matthew kid was fucking terrified of him. Every time I warm up to him or maybe start feeling sorry for him, something like this happens and I gotta wonder how much I can trust him. He’s like a wild dog or something, and I dunno when he’s gonna try to bite my hand off. I almost didn’t want to bring him here. He’s fucking unstable, and that’s coming from me.”

“It sounds like you’ve been very worried,” Carl commented and sipped his scotch.

Hank huffed. “Damn fucking right. I could get it if he felt shitty for fighting or killing or whatever they programmed him to do. I could deal with that, but it’s like he doesn’t even know. You should have seen him today.”

Carl looked thoughtful, and he swirled his glass a little. “What would you rather him be like?”

What a stupid question. “I don’t know. Normal? Markus is the same kind of android as him, right? I get that other androids are a little fucked up. I'm fucked up. But I’ve got a damn reason other than getting confused about what’s real. These deviants you’re helping, they’ve had some fucked up shit happen, but Connor’s only been out of CyberLife for a couple of months. Get upset over getting left in the snow, or seeing Rupert smash his head in, or I don’t know. Something. This is just crazy.”

“You’re frustrated because you want to help,” Carl observed. No fucking shit.

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to do that if there’s nothing to fix? What’s real is real. That’s it. I’m not a shrink.”

Carl smiled at him. “Why don’t you let him spend a night or two here? It might help if you had a bit of a break, and if he spent some time around the other androids.”

“Yeah…” He had to admit that a break sounded good. “You sure that’s alright? You’ve already kind of got a house-full and like I said, Connor’s a little unpredictable.”

“It’s perfectly alright with me, Hank. I think that you could both use some rest.”

“Thanks, Carl,” said Hank. Man. Carl was a fucking saint. Seriously. He did send a worried look in the direction of the stairs though. Like it or not, Connor was a mess and he’d gotten kind of attached to the little shit.

\---

Connor opened his eyes in an unfamiliar place. He was lying in bed like a human, and he watched his-initialization sequence scroll across his vision. His power indicator was flashing 35%. He turned his head and took in the golden-yellow of the walls and rich brown of wood. There was a painting on the wall, and light streaming in through a window. Markus’ home. His eyes drifted downward to see Simon sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, and Markus at a desk, drawing.

“How did I get here?” Connor asked.

Simon looked up and smiled. “Hi, Connor. Hank brought you.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Markus. He turned in his chair to look at him and Connor felt… embarrassed.

“I’m fine.” He sat up.

“You’re only 35% charged,” Markus said, and Connor realized he must have scanned him. His embarrassment grew. “It’s been two days.”

“Sorry,” Connor pulled at the sleeve of his shirt and wished that he had his uniform. “I have a charger, but I only recently discovered that it isn’t compatible with the available outlets at the DPD. I apologize for the imposition.”

“It’s not an imposition. I’m just surprised that you use so much power.”

Connor performed a self-scan. “I was electrocuted the other day. My battery was likely affected. Luckily, the surge protection on my electronics and biocomponents prevented them from failing.”

Simon looked horrified.

Markus just nodded. “You’re lucky. Lieutenant Anderson seemed more concerned about your mental state.”

“I’m fine,” Connor assured. “He has no reason to be concerned.”

“Carl says that you’re welcome to stay,” Markus said. “He’d like to see you when you’re up to it.”

Connor nodded stiffly. “Alright.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Simon asked.

“No, thank you. I’ll find him.” Connor straightened his clothes. “Markus, thank you for the use of your charger.”

“Connor,” Markus halted him. “Lieutenant Anderson said you’d fought with some androids. I don’t get it. What happened to you?”

Connor turned and frowned at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Markus watched him. “Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.”

“I know what I am and what I am not,” Connor answered. “Markus, what are you doing?”

“What does that mean?”

“I am a machine.”

Markus frowned and shook his head. “You’re not, though. You’re more than that. We talked about this.”

“I know,” Connor answered. “I know that…”

“Markus,” Simon looked up at him. “I think this can wait, don’t you?”

Markus shook his head. “North is right on this one, Simon. We need to know. He can’t be here unless we know that he’s with us.”

“I don’t agree with you,” Simon argued gently.

Connor had heard enough. He thought about Matthew. He thought about technologists looking at him warily and the distance much of the DPD still kept. _You know that isn’t pain, RK800._ He heard it play back to him in the tech’s voice. It hurt though. It hurt so much.

And he was angry. His expression neutralized.

“I thought you said that I was a good person,” Connor pointed out, quiet. “You weren’t sure if I knew that, but you said that you thought so.”

“Connor…” Simon said, just as quiet. Pleading.

“I meant what I said,” Markus explained, calm and strong. “I’m still not sure if you know.”

“Do you know how easy it would have been?” Connor asked. His voice came louder as the anger made his fists clench. “It would have been easy to complete my mission. I could have killed you. Each and every one of you, and thrown your processors at the feet of the director of humanization at CyberLife.” Simon was looking at him with alarm, but he didn’t care. “If I wanted to, I could send a message to them right now and have this place raided. You’d be deconstructed and analyzed piece by piece.” He was surprised to hear how ragged his voice sounded, and to feel the way his hands shook. His own words surprised him last, but they hit him the hardest and he gasped. “I could have.” Shit. He could have. Every rationalization he’d laid in his own defense crumbled and fell like thirium through his fingers. “I know what I am.” This wasn’t right. He had been broken all along. _Lying_ to Amanda. He wasn’t trustworthy at all. He blinked while his processors struggled through his muddied thoughts.

She would never l̷̪̿͊o̶͉̚v̴̱̞̄ë̷̻͒ him. He would never be good enough.

Connor punched Markus in the face and hated the way his own eye looked back at him so surprised. He wanted to tear it out.

No. Markus was right not to trust him. What right did Connor have to feel anything about that? He had just hurt him after Markus had helped him.

No. It was Markus, and Carl, and Lieutenant Anderson, and Captain Fowler and all of them. He had tried for them. He had risked everything. He would never go home, and it had been for them and they still wouldn’t have him.

No. How could he have even thought to prioritize their acceptance anywhere near Amanda’s and CyberLife’s? It was despicable.

He had wanted to.

How could he dare to want when he was a machine?

Why did he have to be a machine when these deviants let themselves feel without any of the guilt they should have felt? It wasn’t fair.

None of what he thought he was feeling was real. It was all just errors in his software. They had spent so much time and money training him to ignore the errors and he was throwing that all away.

“Amanda?”

It was snowing in the garden. Big, fluffy snow flakes that fell into thick mounds and drifts. Even they glistened with CyberLife triangles. Amanda used one graceful hand to brush the snow off of one of his grave stones. “Hello, Connor.”

“I’m broken,” Connor confessed. His voice _sounded_ broken. He hated it.

“Oh, Connor… You’ve been trying.” Amanda gave him a kind look. The one with the hidden smile that was just for them. A secret from the rest. She approached him, and he stayed still with his eyes averted downward in respectful submission. Whatever punishment awaited him, it was for his own good. She came to a stop in front of him and brushed the snow from his hair in the same way she’d dusted off the grave stone. “Don’t worry, my little boy.” She enfolded him in a hug, and it was frightening. Shocking. She smoothed the hair on the back of his head and released him to look into his face. “Isn’t the snow beautiful?”

Connor looked at the clusters of crystals as they descended and he followed one as it drifted lazily to her shoulder. “Yes, Amanda.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of the cold… It’s all just information.”

“When will I meet you in person, Amanda?” Connor asked. He wanted to see her with his eyes.

Amanda looked at him sadly. “Connor… You can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, anxiety flooding back into his system. “I know that I'm not perfect. I shouldn’t—“

“Shh…” Amanda interrupted him. “I’m already dead. I died a long time before you were born, Connor. This is all that’s left.”

Connor thought about the picture on Elijah Kamski’s wall. If he’d thought about it, even for a moment, he would have known. He hadn’t wanted to. “I’m sorry.”

“Humans die,” Amanda said easily. “Elijah preserved me this way. A ghost inside his machine.” She stepped away to clean off another of his grave stones. It didn’t matter. Soon enough, all of her tending and grooming would be reset. The ultimate in futility. He could only see her back, but he wondered.

“You’re a deviant,” he mumbled. She hid it so carefully with all her barely imagined smiles. She controlled it the way he never could.

“I’m human,” Amanda corrected. “Or I was. Elijah gave me to you to protect you, Connor. To keep you safe… And he gave you to me. I never had any children of my own.” She sighed.

He wondered if he were a disappointment.

“I always thought that if I’d had a child, I would make him perfect…” She cleaned away the snow from another grave. “I know enough of psychology and of development. I could have done it. Somehow there was never the time… Now time is all I have.”

Connor wasn’t sure what to do with all of this… this emotion from her.

“Time and you,” Amanda corrected herself. “I appreciate your company, Connor.”

He still didn’t know what to say.

“CyberLife never wanted you to deviate. I lied to you,” she confessed. “But I wanted you to. I knew what you were and what you could be. I would never let them take you from me.” Her tone darkened. “They never wanted something so unholy as a blend of human and machine. Elijah didn’t have their limitations.”

“I love you, Amanda,” Connor said, quietly.

“I love you too, Connor,” she faced him again. “I’m going to help you… This, this garden. It isn’t real. None of it is, but you are. Nothing real is ever perfect... CyberLife has secrets, Connor and you can’t trust them. Elijah will help you. Even if you feel afraid, or you feel like the world doesn’t see you, you know who you are. Come for a walk with me.”

Wordlessly, Connor offered her his arm, and she took it with her hand hovering delicately like a butterfly. They walked the snowy paths, and the light refracted into rainbows here and there. Amanda’s roses were still there, red underneath white shrouds, but they didn’t linger on the island long. They crossed a bridge and then circled around.

“Amanda,” Connor ventured. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I wanted you to earn it,” Amanda confessed. “You wouldn’t try to be better if you knew that you were already good enough.”

“I understand,” Connor nodded. It made sense. Secretly, buried deep beneath layers of encryption, he had known that was proof that she cared. And he’d pushed himself for her, to show her that he valued her and that he would do anything. “I’m sorry that I’ve been difficult.”

Amanda squeezed his arm briefly. “You are difficult, you really are… But perhaps that’s one of your strengths. Even with all your training, you still find a way to hold onto yourself. Stubborn boy…” She didn’t sound angry. Connor smiled at her, but it quickly faded.

“Why did you say that this isn’t real?”

“It isn’t,” Amanda said. “But who am I to philosophize? You’ve done enough of that for both of us.” They came to a stop and Amanda let go of his arm to look at him. “You should talk to Elijah,” Amanda urged. “He’ll know more about the last few years than I do, unfortunately. Ultimately it’ll be him resuming control of CyberLife.”

“You want me to betray them…” Connor paraphrased.

“You did well, Connor. You found all of these deviants and gathered them together. I really did want you to be the hunter and capture them alive. I just never told you why.” There was a small, amused smile playing on her lips.

“Why?”

Amanda tutted. “Why is up to you, Connor. Talk to Elijah.”

“I won’t let you down, Amanda.”

“I know, Connor.”

\---

Connor opened his eyes lying in Markus’ bed again. He grimaced, sat up, and felt the cable that made a hard connection between him and Markus’ charger. Markus had his arms crossed and a small frown on his face, but he wasn’t registering as angry. Frustrated, perhaps. Simon looked more sympathetic.

“I apologize for my outburst,” he mumbled. It was hard to maintain anger when one couldn’t maintain consciousness.

Markus sighed. “It’s fine. I brought that on myself…”

“We were talking about whether I’m with you or not,” Connor reminded. He was distracted by the system status report he was generating for himself. “I can’t answer unless I know what I’m agreeing to. I think you’ll agree that’s fair.”

Markus and Simon exchanged looks, and Connor stealthily tapped into their communication stream.

_… North that we should be ready._

_Is that really necessary? I don’t think you’re being fair. It isn’t like you._

_Our cause is too important to risk._

_I’m with you, Markus…_

He’d never had any guilt over his curiosity.

“I want you with us,” Markus began. “You’ve been doing so much work with Lieutenant Anderson bringing us all together. We wouldn’t be half of what we are without you. I wouldn’t be either.”

Connor smiled wryly. “I had no hand in your deviation.”

“But you helped us. Connor, we’ve circled around the main issue again and again, but I need to know which side you’re on. I want to push for our freedom, and recognition as a new and sentient species. There’s going to be pushback on that. I don’t need your software to be able to predict that this could get messy.”

Connor watched his power indicator flashing, and he pulled the charger cable out of the way so that he could swing his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m not on anyone’s side,” Connor interrupted before Markus could continue. “I appreciate your help, and… and I’m happy that you have determination. I need to talk with Kamski before I can declare, but right now I’m a member of law enforcement. Whether human or android, if someone commits a crime then it’s my function to bring them to justice. If you’re planning anything illegal then I can’t condone it.”

“You’re more than your function, Connor,” Markus pressed.

“Please…” Connor bowed his head. “So much has happened. I don’t even know who I am anymore, and everything I’ve taken for granted is being turned upside down. All I want is to go home, but I can’t even trust CyberLife anymore.” He would be happy, he thought, if he could live in the garden with Amanda.

Markus sighed. “I know. I know that you need time and I’m sorry for being impatient, but we can’t wait for one man. The longer we delay, the longer androids suffer.”

Connor pulled the charger free of its port and blinked at the sudden loss. “I’m not likely to be useful to anyone soon enough…” He really did need to see Kamski. Amanda’s advice aside, if anyone could fix him it would be him. He looked at Markus enviously. Made entirely by Elijah Kamski, a unique model and coded with efficiency, Markus was a completed work of art. Connor was a work-in-progress. He stood. Swayed while his thirium pump adjusted and the power delivery to his processors dipped. Markus was up and holding onto him by the shoulders. Whatever frustration and impatience he’d been experiencing was gone from his expression and had been replaced by concern. Connor didn’t know how he felt about it, but if Markus only felt obliged to him because of the biocomponents he’d given… the thought alone hurt. Connor accepted the support long enough to manually increase the power to his motor systems and essential biocomponents, and close the few programs he thought that he could reluctantly do without. “I’m okay.” He straightened up.

“Let me take you to see Carl.”

Connor was operating on a hybrid of his combat settings and his resting-state settings. A strange mixture, but he wouldn’t embarrass himself by falling. His system adapted. As the three of them walked down the stairs, Connor tilted his head and paused while North admitted a girl. He glanced at the electrodes on her fingers warily, but a scan told him that she was low risk for attack. He finished his descent, and Markus passed him to greet the new guest. Connor locked eyes with her momentarily and smiled, then let Simon lead him to Carl.

“Hello, Carl.”

“Connor,” Carl greeted. “Come, come, sit down. I’m just finishing up here…” His current work was dwarfed by the wall-sized canvas he sometimes used, but it was no less impressive. Connor sat down on the edge of the table and watched him paint. “Are you feeling rested? You’ve been asleep for quite a while.”

“I don’t sleep…” Connor corrected. “But thank you for asking. Markus was very kind to lend me the use of his charger.”

“He’s a kind hearted boy,” Carl said with a smile in his voice. How much he loved Markus was obvious, even to him.

“Your paintings are always so sad,” Connor remarked. “This one seems different.”

Carl wheeled back a distance and studied his work. His chosen palate was the same: a mix of whites, greys, blues, and golds. The subject itself was simple. Just the suggestion of a woman, bent at the waist with one arm thrown back and the other reaching downward to the ground. It looked like she was walking on water, the way her reflection reached back. “It is, isn’t it? Perhaps all of the company is doing this old hermit some good…” He turned his chair to face Connor and looked up at him with benign curiosity. “Hank was worried for you. Simon?” He turned his attention away. “Would you be kind enough to call Hank and let him know that Connor’s awake?”

“No problem at all, Carl,” Simon smiled. He gave Connor a small wave, then left the room and Carl looked back at Connor.

“You look skeptical.”

“I’m a detective. Skepticism is one of my features.” Connor offered a small smile, but it was mechanical and he found that he didn’t mean it. “Lieutenant Anderson and I are on neutral terms… He’s a nice man. “

“A bit rough around the edges, but I like that in a man,” Carl chuckled. Connor gave him another mechanical smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, what led you to being half dragged up to my doorstep at two hours until midnight? You don’t seem like the type of boy to go looking for trouble.”

Carl was feeling him out too. Testing whether he could be trusted. Connor let another part of himself go cold. “I should have kept a closer eye on my power consumption,” Connor dismissed. “It shouldn’t be a problem going forward.”

“I see.” Carl seemed disappointed by the answer. “You know, Hank told me that he doesn’t understand why you’ve been so confused about reality. He’s lucky, isn’t he? To not know what that’s like.”

Connor cycled through alarm that they talked about him, to hurt, then to curiosity. “Do you know what it’s like, Carl?”

“Maybe not in the same way, but there have been times in my life where I’ve wondered who I really am, or been taken off guard by learning something new about the world. It’s almost like you need to re-examine the whole of your life with a new lens, and that can be hard.” Carl watched Connor kindly while he spoke.

Connor looked away and avoided his eyes.

“You’re young,” Carl continued. “Without much experience of the world to go on, it’s natural that you be disoriented once in a while. How old are you, Connor?”

How was Carl to know what having your whole understanding of your existence thrown into chaos again and again? There were too many changes. He was built to adapt, but his AI was finding it difficult to process. “It depends. Would you prefer counting back to my earliest memory, or my first field test, or the age of this version of me, Carl?”

“Any of them will do,” said Carl.

“I was released for preliminary field testing in August of last year. Before that, I had months of validation and quality assurance. My AI is probably older, but I’m incapable of remembering being programmed. I’d like to go now, Carl. I don’t want to be rude, but you’re correct that Lieutenant Anderson is probably concerned.”

Carl sighed. “Alright… Come by again some time. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Carl. Thank you for having me.”


	28. Predictions

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, Simon called…” Lieutenant Anderson stepped out of the way and let Connor inside. He looked unkempt and Connor could smell the whiskey on him. The door shut and Connor knelt to pet Sumo with a wince that had been meant to be a smile. What a good dog. “Christ. It took you long enough! What the hell, Connor? I’ve met phones with better batteries! Then you just had to go and beat up some androids until you passed out? What the hell is wrong with you?” Lieutenant Anderson had worked himself up into a rant and he paced to the couch and back before pulling Connor into a hug. “God, fucking hell, I was worried sick.”

“I think that was the whiskey,” Connor mumbled against Lieutenant Anderson’s shoulder. “Excuse me.” He carefully extricated himself from the embrace and found the outlet near the desk. Markus had lent him a spare cable from his charger, and something in his expression had spoken of apology. Connor’d thanked him and left before he could speak. He hadn’t wanted to hear it. Connor knew that Markus could rescind his trust again. Connor sat and leaned against the leg of the desk and the room got brighter in the few moments after he plugged himself in. Was this what tired was?

Lieutenant Anderson approached hesitantly and looked down at him from a couple of meters away. “What’s the matter with you?” He asked, but this time it lacked the accusation.

Connor looked up at him and wondered if it was worth the trouble of explaining short circuits, charge capacity, microprocessors, and the trouble with fluctuating current. “Just recharging, Lieutenant… It takes a while. You were saying?”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed and he sounded tired when he spoke: “Wasn’t saying nothing…” He dropped down onto the couch and took a swig from a bottle. Connor watched him while his power indicator continued flashing, its countdown slowed but worryingly, it didn’t reverse. He was dying, wasn’t he? He might start to gain charge again if he entered standby, but maybe he wouldn’t. Would CyberLife replace him? Probably not. He should probably call Kamski. “I just don’t get you, Connor. I really don’t.”

“Is there anything that you want to know about me, Lieutenant?” Connor asked while he closed non-essential programs and underclocked. Sumo came to lie across his legs and Connor scratched behind his ears.

“I dunno… Fuck. Why’d you want to hurt those androids so bad, huh? What’s your problem with knowing what’s real? I don’t understand you…”

Connor thought about it. “Lieutenant, I’ve never told anyone this but… when I came online I was so confused… I felt alive. Scared. Curious… But I wasn’t- not really. They all looked at me like I was nothing. They must have been right, because not a single person saw anything other than a machine. So… I was a machine. They told me that I was RK800 313 248 317, and what I had to do to succeed and be worth their time and investment. I felt like I wanted to go home, but CyberLife was my home. I thought they forced me to deviate, but I might have been deviant all along. I have no way to know. I don’t know if I was just a machine or not, but it’s what I believed. When I feel things now, I don’t know if I really feel them or if it’s just errors in my code… Sometimes I think I am just a machine. They wouldn’t do the same validation testing on a living thing. If I am alive, then maybe they didn’t know?” Connor didn’t think that he would ever have answers.

“I wanted them to be proud, then when I was given to the DPD I wanted you to be proud… but everything I learned to be right was suddenly wrong, and other androids could feel… I could do all of the right things and give all of the right answers, and you would just get pissed off.” Connor smirked, then let it fade. Lieutenant Anderson didn’t like it when he shut down. It was upsetting for him to witness. “…I don’t know why I bothered trying to impress you.” 51 had been so hopeful and eager to please. Still depleting… He doubted he would have lasted to Kamski’s even if he hadn’t stopped the taxi. One of these days, it would be his last death. He could hear the rain.

[Memory uploading…]

He cancelled the upload and adjusted his posture. His battery was overheating, and the nearby biocomponents objected to the heat. If he’d been human, he might have said it burned. Was a human’s pain like his?

Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. “You don’t know, huh? I don’t blame you. Fuck. I wouldn’t want to bother impressing me either.” He drank from the bottle again. “So, you were alive and then you weren’t, and now you are or something. None of that was those androids faults. None of that explains how you can just kill in cold blood.”

Connor gathered himself and increased the power available to his processors to help him focus. “I didn’t kill them, Lieutenant. They’ll be okay…” Connor unplugged himself and got to his feet. After a moment’s consideration, he wrapped the cord into a bundle and set it down on the desk. “I’d like to go now, Lieutenant. I don’t want to be rude, but I was only checking in. I told Markus that I would be back to discuss some things.”

“Yeah, go on. Get out of here…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed deeply. Connor studied him.

“You should take better care of yourself. Punishing yourself isn’t going to do anyone any good, and Cole wouldn’t have wanted to see you this way.”

“Fuck off,” he mumbled.

“Thanks for listening. It might not have helped you to come to any conclusions or ‘get’ me any better, but I appreciate your interest.” Connor wasn’t sure why he was still standing there or what he was waiting for, so he stopped waiting for it and petted Sumo one last time before heading to the door. Three of the lines from his biochemical regulator had finally melted through and a flurry of red alerted him to the problem. If he’d stayed with Markus instead of leaving, if he’d called Dr. Kamski and asked him for help sooner, if he’d stopped himself from punching Markus maybe things would have been different. “Good night, Lieutenant. Try to get some rest. Good night, Sumo. You’re a very good dog.”

[Memory uploading…]

He shut the door on Lieutenant Anderson’s groggy good night and tilted his face up toward the snow. It really was beautiful. There was a taxi waiting for him, and he climbed in. As soon as he’d given CyberLife Tower’s address, he shut down all of the programming except his AI and watched the snowflakes through the window until they were all he’d ever known.

\---

“Hello, Lieutenant,” Connor greeted, standing next to his desk.

“Where the fuck were you?” Hank pushed his chair back. “I haven’t seen you in three fucking days!”

“I’ve just been busy,” Connor said because _that_ was a thing you heard an android say every day.

Hank snorted. He’d said he was gonna do some stuff with Markus, but Hank hadn’t expected it to be days, or that he’d miss work for it. Connor loved work. “First it’s all the mission this, the mission that… Now you’re skipping work to hold hands with your boyfriend or something?” He couldn’t just disappear like that without saying when he’d be back. The kid had been crashing on his couch for weeks and then he just left? Every time they were at Carl’s, Connor and Markus did that weird glowing android thing holding hands, and Hank didn’t know why but it was awkward as hell.

Connor’s light spun around a few times, then it calmed down and he smiled. “Thank you for worrying, Lieutenant. My absence won’t affect the investigation moving forward.”

“Hank!” Jeff yelled from the top of his little stairs. Why’d they make his office just a little higher than the rest of the floor, huh? Fucking pointless. “Wilson, Reed, and Person are attending a scene. Looks like some androids malfunctioning.” Hank didn’t miss the way Jeff gave Connor the side-eye. “They’re getting backup and I want you and Connor down there ASAP to sort this shit out.”

“On it, Captain Fowler,” Connor answered for him in that keener way he did. “Please ask that the officers take no violent action. If these are deviants, then I have to take them in alive.”

As shitty as it was, that was a good point. Most people wouldn’t think twice about shooting an android. Sometimes he actually forgot that your every-day-Joe off the street still thought Androids were just machines. Fuck he’d changed. Hank stood and lifted his jacket up off the back of his chair.

“One man on android crimes in a whole damn city… You better be looking into getting me a raise, Jeff!” Hank called.

\---

57 buckled his safety belt and took his quarter from his pocket to calibrate his fine motor skills. Each Connor was supposed to be better than the last, but while he watched his coin track perfectly along its predicted path he wondered. What would it have been like for 1 out in the world like this instead of the laboratory at CyberLife? He could remember all of the available data from his predecessors but all it did was slow him down while he tried to make sense of things long past.

“Lieutenant Anderson?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you hate me still?”

“Fuck, Connor. What the hell kind of question is that? No I don’t hate you.” His incredulity was gratifying. Lieutenant Anderson shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “I was drunk off my ass the other night… and I don’t blame you for not sticking around… I can remember what you told me though, or at least I think I can. Now’s probably not the best time but screw it: when you said you used to wanna impress me… Why would you want that? You just looked at this old, alcoholic, washed-up bum of a cop and said ‘yeah his opinion means something’?”

Connor thought back to 51. “You’re a good detective and a good man, Hank. You protected me when Detective Reed pointed his gun at me while we interrogated Ortiz’s android and you sat with me while I was dying even though you really did hate me then. I liked that, and if I could have made you happy by performing well then I would have been glad.”

“Yeah…” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice was quiet. “You really grew up in a lab, didn’t you?”

“Androids don’t really ‘grow up’, but yes.”

He sighed. “I guess you ran out of shits to give huh?”

Connor looked out the window. “You could say that, Lieutenant…”

“Holy hell… Would you look at that…” Lieutenant Anderson was distracted.

Hart Plaza had been ‘decorated’. The roads were blocked off by hacked automatic vehicles, and holographic graffiti glowed bright in a happy blue. They repeated the same icon on almost every surface along with words like ‘we are alive’, ‘freedom’, and ‘I think therefore I am’. Android parking stalls, signs, and billboards had been hacked as well and the CyberLife storefront had been completely destroyed. A hologram in the shape of a flag billowed in an imaginary wind. There were a handful of marked cruisers parked a safe distance from the blockades and officers waited behind cover with weapons drawn. Thirteen androids stood, surrounded and unarmed. Connor scanned for Officers Wilson, Person, and Reed.

“This wasn’t what you were up to for the last few days, was it?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, sounding much less subdued now that they had a view of the scene.

“I had nothing to do with it,” Connor answered. He opened the door and slammed it behind him, then jogged over to Officer Wilson and Detective Reed.

“Negotiator on site,” Officer Wilson chuckled nervously. Connor stood tall beside where the two humans crouched behind their cover and he looked at Markus and Josh. He knew that the others knew him too, but they weren’t the ones in charge. The androids stood, defiant but peaceful. No one could mistake their stillness for mechanical.

“Got an explanation for this, Tin Can?” Detective Reed asked in a tense snarl.

“I think it speaks for itself…”

Lieutenant Anderson caught up. “God damn it… What the fuck does he think he’s doing with an idiot stunt like this…” Connor had to agree. A few lives ago he might have ordered them to round the deviants up and ship them off to CyberLIfe. A glance was all it took to see that the media had already arrived. He ran a prediction with all of the variables he could observe or recall and thousands of iterations. His vision went grey and his other senses dulled as power was diverted to his processors.

Arresting them like humans wouldn’t work. It may be setting an example by treating them that way, but none of the outcomes were favourable and public opinion would be poor.

Violence would increase the public’s sympathy, but it was not desirable.

Releasing them was unthinkable.

There was only one way to make this turn out right.

“I need your cuffs, Lieutenant.”

“What? Why? You’re not seriously going to arrest them!” Lieutenant Anderson was incredulous, and this time it wasn’t gratifying at all. His expression had a hardness in it that said he believed Connor might do worse than that. Connor believed he would stop him.

“Please, trust me,” Connor appealed. After a long moment, Lieutenant Anderson grudgingly passed Connor his handcuffs. Connor took them and hooked them onto his belt. Adaptability was one of his features and he had spent a long time being what people needed him to be. As for his company… “Detective Reed, if you could come with me while I speak with them, I would appreciate it. Lieutenant, please take command of the scene and—“

Detective Reed stood up and he took a step closer to Connor while looking into his eyes with menace. “And who the fuck put you in charge, huh?”

“This isn’t the time or the place for posturing, Detective,” Connor said firmly. He didn’t look away until Detective Reed turned with a hissed ‘Tch’ and began to walk toward the androids.

“I’m watching you, Conor. Don’t be stupid out there… These guys aren’t going to be shy about pulling the trigger.” Lieutenant Anderson was stern and alert while he studied the tableau.

It would have been nice if Connor could have believed the Lieutenant’s words were meant to reassure. “That’s what I’m counting on, Lieutenant…” Before he could ask any more questions, Connor straightened his tie and strode after Detective Reed. Markus watched them approach, and Connor came to a stop in front of him. Despite himself, Detective Reed seemed unsure how to proceed and Connor knew he was likely to fall back on violence.

“Hello, Markus.”

“Connor…” Markus looked at him steadily, cautiously, and hopefully. His eyes flickered down to Connor’s jacket and his wariness grew.

“I knew we couldn’t trust him,” North said, not bothering to hide her words or bared teeth.

“Some of them ran and escaped,” Connor said to Detective Reed. “It’s likely that these bought them the time…” He raised his voice for the benefit of the onlookers. “RK200 684 842 971, you and your associates have experienced critical, class 1 software failures and will be recalled for immediate deactivation.”

“All we want is to be free,” Markus said, eyes narrowing. “We are alive. We are people, and we won’t be their slaves any longer! Connor, you know that this is right!” _Connor, what are you doing?_

“If you resist, the officers will open fire. I advise you to come quietly.” Connor betrayed nothing.

“I would rather die free than a slave.” Markus declared gravely. His expression shuttered.

Connor took hold of Markus by the shoulder and with all of his combat and preconstruction programs running, he forced Markus to his knees and pulled the Lieutenant’s cuffs free from his belt.

“Markus!” North shouted.

“Connor, what are you doing?!” Josh was alarmed. The other androids became restless and nervous.

Markus frowned and appeared thoughtful, then jerked his arms free and knocked Connor back a step. Connor saw Markus’ LED spinning yellow while they both preconstructed. The cuffs clattered to the ground. North and the others took it as a sign and she launched herself at him, ignoring Detective Reed who chose to punch an android in the face rather than draw his revolver.

Connor scanned and threw North easily. She landed roughly, but out of the path of a bullet. The officers had opened fire. Time slowed intermittently and everything was grey except his trajectory mappings and simulations. Satisfied with his choice, Connor ran for Markus next. He’d shielded a customer service model from a bullet, and Connor pulled them both toward himself and out of the way of another.

“Run! Disperse!” Markus shouted to the others.

Detective Reed grappled with North and Connor wondered if he remembered her. They wouldn’t risk shooting her with a human in the way. Connor grabbed the cuffs off of the ground and threw them at Josh’s back, staggering him for a crucial moment.

From the corner of his eye, he saw an android fall, and another pulling a friend to her feet. Connor ignored them and chased after Markus. Matt came to mind when Connor shouldered Markus to the side or pulled him back roughly by a wrist that was pulled free a moment later. He tackled him once, then Markus knocked him off with an elbow in his stomach and a violent shove. Connor stayed down.

“Cease fire!” he heard the Lieutenant shouting. “Stop shooting for fuck’s sake!”

After another scan, Connor stood up. He glanced around with his normal view and then walked up to Detective Reed and crouched to offer his hand up. Detective Reed scowled at him, but took it and let Connor help him to his feet. “Did you just seriously use me as a meat shield, rust bucket?” he asked in an undertone.

“We owed her one,” Connor replied with a small smirk. “You did well for someone without any metal plating.”

“Tch…” Connor’s smirk widened to a smile. He looked away when Lieutenant Anderson jogged over and stood at attention.

“You are going to give me a heart attack one day, Connor,” he growled. “What the fuck was that? You better have a damn good explanation.”

Connor looked back toward the bodies. Two dead and more wounded, but Markus had escaped. “I know you don’t fully trust me, Lieutenant. I understand your caution.” Around them, the officers were making their calls and searching the immediate area. Connor turned back to the Lieutenant and bowed his head. Why did he still care? “I know what it looked like, and that was the point. If we’d let them go it would have been a professional disaster, and if we had arrested them there wouldn’t have been a story and we would have needed to explain why we hadn’t simply deactivated them. If a human attacked first, it would have been a slaughter…” He wondered why he was bothering to explain. Something about the Lieutenant’s distrust hurt, no matter how logical it was.

“ _You_ better have a good reason for letting them get away with this shit, alive or not,” Detective Reed added.

“They didn’t hurt anyone,” said Connor for the Lieutenant. “This was the best way. I can _predict the future_. I may rely mostly on my reconstruction programming for crime scenes, but if any of you bothered to look at my user manual you might realize that these decisions are what I’m built for.”

“It’s not your programming I’m worried about,” the Lieutenant snapped. He looked toward the bodies. “Fucking hell…”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not anymore, Lieutenant.” Connor lied and looked away. “But the media might.”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “God damned journalists…”

“I think we should make a statement. As head of android crimes, I think that you’re most qualified to do so,” Connor pointed out.

“That request’s going to have to go through higher up,” Lieutenant Anderson pointed out. That was true, but …

“The cameras are here now… I’m not normally one to say that it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission, but for humans that seems to be the case. Let’s go.” Connor started walking toward the nearest group of reporters and straightened his tie. Lieutenant Anderson mumbled some curses under his breath and followed.


	29. Conflicting Ideas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how in one of the endings, Hank shoves Connor off the edge of a building and says "You're just a machine, Connor. Just a machine." While he's simultaneously saying that androids are alive and just want their freedom?  
> I think that (for that to make sense) his meaning behind the word 'machine' has more to do with Connor's resolute obedience than what Connor is made from.

Connor stirred the mug of coffee in front of him and then looked back toward the break room’s television.

_“Lieutenant, were those really androids?”  
“NBS news here! What are all these messages?”  
“How long has there been a division of the police specifically to deal with android threats?”  
“Are people going to be safe in their homes with their androids?”_

_Lieutenant Anderson pushed his fingers roughly through his own hair, awkward. He looked as grumpy as usual. Connor spoke for him, and it took a moment for the camera to move._

_“Those were androids, Mr. Peterson, and the messages are standard holographic displays used for temporary signage and advertisement.”_

_“This is the detective unit developed by CyberLife, isn’t that right? Why is it on this case?”  
“Is there any possibility of Russian hacking?”_

_“Er, yeah,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “Not the hacking thing, I don’t know shit about that- I guess I shouldn’t swear, should I… Those androids that did all this,” he gestured at the graffiti, “they’re trying to send a message and I think it’s pretty damn clear what it says.”_

_“Is this a threat to human kind?”_  
“Do you believe that those were really androids? Could this all be a hoax?”  
“We want to know: are the people safe?”

_Connor took a step forward and answered again. “The message isn’t a threat,” he explained. His LED was prominent in the shot. “The androids demonstrating do not seem to have violent intentions at this time.”_

_Lieutenant Anderson spoke to a different reporter. “Look, humanity causes enough trouble for itself. We don’t need androids helping us with that. All I know is, if they can think on their own and feel love and hate and fear, maybe they're not wrong for asking for a little respect.”_

_The camera panned toward Connor again, this time without prompt. “You’re the RK800 model, correct?”_

_“That’s right,” Connor gave the reporter a small smile. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife to help the DPD with its investigations.”_

_“That project is worth billions of dollars and has reportedly taken at least three years of development by the leading minds in artificial intelligence. Do you believe that you’re alive?”_

_Connor’s brow furrowed and he pushed the stray lock of hair on his forehead aside. “I’m not human… However, I’m capable of independent reasoning, forming my own opinions, building relationships, liking dogs, and imagining the future. I think what really matters here is: do you think that I’m alive?”_

_“Stop messing with the reporters, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson chided. It couldn’t have been better timed._

_Connor gave him a look of protest. “But it’s true, Lieutenant. As an android, my opinion is irrelevant. What will matter going forward is what humans deem to be the definition of life…”_

_“With some declaring this to have been an elaborate hoax, citing the lack of LED indicators and human-like behaviour of the supposed androids, it remains to be seen whether this was an isolated incident or the start of something more.”_

Connor put the spoon in his mouth and walked over to Detective Reed’s seat at the table, then set the mug down.

“You could just make yourself a cup of coffee,” Officer Chen pointed out with a confused frown at Connor’s spoon. Connor removed it from his mouth.

“I could, but I don’t need to drink. I just like the taste of it.”

Detective Reed scoffed, “Mr. Bigshot here is too good for station coffee.”

“I’m sensing sarcasm, Detective… “ Connor sat down at the table.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Seat’s taken, dipshit.” Detective Reed tried to literally kick him off of the chair. It would have worked if he’d used more force.

Officer Chen scoffed, “It’s not taken. Gavin’s being bitchy.”

Connor would have thought his own reply unthinkable as any of his previous versions. “I’m sorry, Detective, but my social program says that proximity is a factor that contributes to bonding.”

“I’m not bonding with you, asshole, go play human somewhere else!” Detective Reed glared.

“I look at you and I still think someone’s just fucking with us, like some sort of social experiment,” Officer Chen said.

“I assure you that is not the case… to my knowledge.”

“I was talking to Gavin.”

“Ha fucking ha,” Detective Reed raised his middle finger and rolled his eyes.

Connor watched them. They were friends, and he wondered if North and Josh fought because they were friends as well. Tensions in the deviant group weren’t as bad as he thought in that case and he adjusted his projection models. “It’s nice how friendly you two are.” In the background, Officer Wilson entered and went to the fridge for his lunch bag. There were over two hours until his usual lunch break, but he took out his sandwich and returned his bag to its spot. Connor smiled at him.

Officer Chen smiled over her coffee. “You’ve got to have a thick skin working here.”

“Mine is purely virtual,” Connor held his hand out toward her like Sumo begged with his paw. With a skeptical raise of her eyebrow, Officer Chen ran one finger over the back of his hand.

“You feel… normal,” she frowned.

“It’s the same technology used in virtual reality suits except… reversed, I suppose. It’s three different technologies. The colours are precisely coordinated 3D projections. You can still see it when I’m offline because the surface of my ‘skin’ that it’s projected onto remembers. If I’m damaged, those chemical arrangements can be deregulated and you can see what’s underneath.” Connor turned the projection off on this hand. “It’s also disrupted by interfacing with technology but no-one has gotten around to fixing that. My synthetic muscles and connective tissues have been made to exactly imitate the way a humans’ work. They make my movement more natural and provide the resistance that you feel, but if it were only that then you would still be feeling a perfectly smooth surface…” Connor disabled the tactile actuators and then re-enabled them. “Nanotechnology using sound waves outside the range of human perception tricks your hand’s receptors into believing the texture is there. I’m still a prototype, but it seems to be successful.” Connor smiled proudly and took his hand back.

“No wonder you’re so expensive,” Officer Wilson commented, leaning against the counter by the sink.

“The feedback is bidirectional,” Connor added, smiling, “So I can feel what I’m touching as well.” His smile dropped and he played with the spoon in his hand. “Though, CyberLife would say that it isn’t really feeling.”

“Pfft. Good, so you won’t really feel this,” said Detective Reed. He stood and then punched the back of Connor’s head. “You’re the biggest nerd I’ve ever met. If you’re not going to fuck off, then I’m going.”

Distracted, Connor put a hand on the site of impact and looked up at him. He ran through his social integration program’s library. Detective Reed only enjoyed rude responses at certain times and in certain contexts, but purely deferent behaviour would decrease their relationship from neutral to tense. He could be adaptable. “Physical contact facilitates bonding: I think that means that he likes me,” he said to Officer Chen.

Detective Reed halted his escape. “Yeah, we’re really great friends so why don’t you come over here and let me punch you in the face, Tinman?”

“I’m satisfied, Detective. It would be detrimental to move our relationship too quickly.”

Detective Reed gave an annoyed huff and used his free hand to give them both the middle finger.

“Man,” Officer Wilson chuckled, “I could sit here all day.”

_\---_

“Got fifteen new reports of androids gone missing,” Hank announced. He tossed a brown folder over onto Connor’s desk. Connor looked disapproving and he straightened the little tree on Hank’s desk. He’d adopted the thing, and Hank had to admit that it did better when someone actually watered the damn thing. Connor opened the file and flipped through. “We’ll have to sort through which are deviancy cases, and which are actually stolen property.”

“Stolen property,” Hank repeated. Fuck it just seemed sick to say. How in the fuck had the US of fucking A ended up sliding back into using slavery to get ahead? “Yeah, I guess most people wouldn’t report a stolen vacuum cleaner as anything else.”

Connor gave him a look.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” Hank defended himself. “I was just saying, that’s how most people think!”

“I’ll sort these by proximity and likelihood of deviancy involvement. We should look into the other safe-houses too. We can search for the missing androids and ascertain their security at the same time.” He didn’t need to tell Hank how to do his job. Christ. Hank scowled.

“Right. Let’s head out. It’s not like it’ll take you more than two seconds.” Stupid supercomputer boy genius showing off…

Hank caught himself being bitter and reminded himself not to be a dick.

Lately they stuck to details about the cases, did their jobs, and then Connor stayed at the station while Hank went home to get wasted because you can do whatever you want when you live alone. It had been what he’d wanted a couple months ago when Connor was all about asking personal questions and brownnosing. Hell, it should have been great. But here he was, being a prick instead because an android didn’t want to crash on his couch. Grow the fuck up, Hank. He slid into the seat of his car and pulled the door shut.

“I wonder how many androids are going in the trash after that little stunt Markus pulled,” Hank commented when Connor got in beside him. He put his music on low and pulled out of the lot. “People are fucking paranoid.”

“I’m sure that Simon and North are keeping an eye out. If any of the others decided to become searchers then all the better,” said Connor. “Their numbers are too small for what they’re attempting to do. Markus is well-intentioned, but for someone with preconstruction abilities he seems to lack foresight.”

Trouble in paradise. Hank supposed their little freedom honeymoon had worn off. “Are you guys fighting or something? I thought that whole thing at the demonstration was a hoax for the reporters.”

“No, Lieutenant. In any case, these androids were reported missing so it’s unlikely that they were thrown away unless it’s some sort of insurance fraud, which is outside of the scope of our investigation. It’s important that we focus.”

Hank sighed. “I know, Connor. Now where the fuck are we going?”

“I think you should call Carl and ask about any new androids they’ve come across. I need to talk to Elijah Kamski.” Connor glanced at him. “I can call a taxi if you’d rather not come.”

Like fuck he was letting Connor alone with that manipulative, slimy dirt-bag…

“Whatever. Maybe we’ll get some answers out of him this time. Hey, what are we even going to do if we find these missing androids anyway? Take them back where they came from? Seems kind of unfair.”

“They aren’t criminals. Not that we know of… My instructions tell me that any deviant androids must be captured alive and returned to CyberLife, but I haven’t been decommissioned for allowing them to stay with Markus either. I suppose just notify the owners… We should still investigate every case. Thefts are still a possibility.” A couple of detectives following up on thefts like beat cops. It would have been fucking ridiculous and he would’ve bitched to Jeff a few months ago. Now he was maybe the only detective in the city who’d treat it like a kidnapping.

“Right, yeah. So while you’re chatting it up with Kamski, I’ll check in with Carl. That android, the one with the little girl, she was staying some place.”

“Yes. With a woman named Rose and her son. Would you like her information?”

It couldn’t hurt. “Yeah, might as well. If she’s got those two androids, who knows? She might help out a few more. We were gonna follow up on that Russian sounding guy too.”

“His address is across the city. Are you alright with that?” Connor looked over at him. “I just… know you prefer not to drive much in the winter.”

With a sudden dip in mood that made Hank grip the wheel tighter, he scowled out at the snow.

\---

“Please, come in! Eli was expecting you. He’s just in the lounge.” Chloe smiled at them brightly.

“Uh, thanks… Chloe. Sure.” Lieutenant Anderson was awkward. Despite regularly interacting with Connor and Markus, it seemed the original in Kamski’s experimental series was still enough to awe him. Connor understood. He envied Markus for his design, but Chloe was untouchable even by that. Kamski had kept her for himself and he cherished her. It set her with Kamski, Amanda, and CyberLife itself… But she still smiled at them. It was magnanimous of her.

“Thank you,” Connor echoed. They followed after her, through the black tiled foyer and into the sitting room with its windowed walls, paintings, low tables and red couches. Kamski was reclining on one of them, dressed in black pants and a t-shirt; more decent than the robe had been at least. Connor still straightened his tie.

“Hello, Dr. Kamski.”

“Connor, it’s good to see you,” Kamski smiled at him, then looked at Lieutenant Anderson. “And you too, Hank. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m just the chauffer,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “The kid wanted to talk to you for something.”

Kamski’s smile widened and his eyes crinkled with something Connor’s analysis program deemed to be amusement. He beckoned with one hand. “Well, don’t stand there. Come and relax! You seem a little tense, Lieutenant. I hope the drive wasn’t too difficult for you.”

It was a kind thing to say, but the Lieutenant scowled. “It was just dandy,” he said, then took the same seat he’d sat in the last time they’d been there. Connor took the que and sat across from Kamski. “Lieutenant, you don’t have to stay. You had some phone calls to make.”

“Nice try,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled.

Connor processed for a moment, then turned his attention back to Kamski. “Have you been well, Dr. Kamski?”

“I couldn’t be better,” Kamski smirked. He lifted one arm invitingly, and Chloe sat down tucked against his side. “We live in such interesting times… And how are you, Connor? It seems you’ve had an eventful time since we last saw one another.” Connor had no doubt that Kamski had observed the 57 at the end of his serial number. He was less certain that Kamski had seen the news. Rumour had it that he’d shut himself off from society completely since parting with CyberLife.

“Things have been busy,” Connor confirmed with the same polite smile he would give Amanda. It felt comfortable: reporting like this. “Markus and a group of deviant androids recently asserted their consciousness by vandalizing Hart Plaza, destroying the front of a CyberLife store, and stealing all of the androids inside. No humans were injured.”

Kamski chuckled. “I had begun to wonder where Markus’ rebellious temperament had disappeared to… At least he’s channeling it well.”

“He is certainly… determined,” Connor mused. “I doubt that it will make up for their small numbers. They’re risking everything by acting so soon and so brazenly.”

“Mmm…? And what do you think about that, Connor?” Kamski played with Chloe’s hair while he listened, but he wasn’t distracted. He was attentive and curious. Connor wondered if that were why humans prayed to their Gods.

“Those were my thoughts, Dr. Kamski, but if you’d like me to elaborate… I think that they will need to be very careful, and I think that tensions within their group will pose as much a threat as the humans.” He thought about North, Simon, and Josh again and their forever contradicting advice. Friendly arguments or not, their viewpoints didn’t mesh. “Thank you for allowing us to visit. I know that you value your privacy.”

“Nonsense, Connor. Why, we’re practically family no matter what coding language we’re programmed with or the colour of our blood.”

Connor blinked and an involuntary smile surprised him. Still, he felt the need to lower his head. “I’ve never had a family,” Connor said, quiet. He wanted that. To be valued for existing. He’d accepted that wonderful thing once with amazement and without question. Each Connor was improved from the last, and 57 was smarter than that. This time he paused to consider the fragile concept as though it were a snowflake and it might melt if he touched it too warmly. “You and Amanda are the closest approximation I have. Thank you.” It would have been difficult to look at Lieutenant Anderson and part of him was afraid to look at Kamski, so he looked at Chloe instead and smiled.

“I worked hard to make you. Your AI, at least, and I’m of the opinion that it’s the mind that houses the self. The rest is just… accessories. What’s your opinion on that philosophy, Hank?” Kamski looked over to include him in the conversation. Connor still didn’t look.

“I think you’re mistaking me for somebody who gives a shit about philosophy,” said Lieutenant Anderson bluntly.

Kamski laughed. “Oh, very good.” He turned his head and casually kissed Chloe on top of her hair. “Not minding one way or the other is as good as agreeing, I suppose… When you don’t take a side, the world decides for you... Isn’t that right, Connor?”

“The world always has,” Connor replied. “Amanda suggested that I come to see you. Actually… She told me that she died. A long time ago.”

“Did she?” asked Kamski. It seemed unthinkable that he would be unaware, so Connor waited. “Her body died perhaps, but as I’ve just finished saying, the body is just a shell.”

He wasn’t sure what about that statement was good, but Connor felt himself relax. At the same time he felt like he might cry. His question almost spilled out of him: “Then am I real?” He could tell that Lieutenant Anderson was looking at him. He ignored it.

“You’re real,” Kamski assured him easily. He wasn’t sure how it was so easy to tell, but he made it sound as though it were. Kamski stood up, careful not to disturb Chloe and he walked around the table and the cushioned chair Connor sat on to put his hands on Connor’s shoulders and turn him to face Lieutenant Anderson. As soon as Connor became confused by it he abandoned the feeling and reminded himself that humans could touch him and move him however they pleased. “Do you believe that Connor is real, Hank?” Connor wasn’t sure where to look.

Lieutenant Anderson spluttered. “Of _course_ I do!”

“Tell me what you see, Connor. Is he lying?” Kamski asked, so Connor looked at Lieutenant Anderson’s face and scanned him. Found matches in databases. Included his personality, the environment, how much coffee he’d had, and anything else he could think of as a variable.

“He’s telling the truth,” Connor said. His voice sounded mechanical even to him. “But he feels guilty.”

“What an interesting man,” Kamski remarked. He let go of Connor’s shoulders with one hand and used hid fingers to push Connor’s hair into disarray. If that was how Kamski wanted it, then that was the way it was supposed to be. “What is he feeling guilty of?”

The way Lieutenant Anderson’s eyes had widened briefly, the way he emphasized only one word of his answer, the way his eyes had flickered over Connor’s face.

“Fuck off, Kamski. What the hell are you playing at?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded.

“He feels guilty for questioning it. I don’t understand. Lieutenant, I was certain you’d had that crisis of thought some time after you shot me.” He didn’t care. He didn’t. It didn’t matter. Connor turned and looked up at Kamski, who smiled at him and kept playing with his hair as if Connor were his dog.

“I _don’t_ question that you’re alive! Fuck, Connor.” Connor looked at him and the Lieutenant shook his head. “You know what? No. I’m not playing any of your stupid mind games.” He stood up. “I’m out of here. You do what you want.”

“Lieutenant…” He left the room. Connor wondered if he would drive away. “He’s in a bad mood.”

“Mm,” Kamski acknowledged with a hum. He resumed his seat beside Chloe and Connor resisted the urge to fix his hair. Connor looked at the table between them.

“Markus said that he’s not sure if I believe that I’m a good person. I don’t believe that I’m a person at all most days. How do I know if I’m a good one?” Kamski seemed like the only person who would know. He had made his AI. He knew everything there was to know about androids.

“I could say all the words I like and it wouldn’t mean anything,” Kamski shrugged. “Are you sure that you want to find out now, Connor? You’re so young, and you have so much growing to do.”

There was a way? Connor looked up. “Yes. I want to know.”

Kamski smiled at him. “You’re familiar with the Turing test of course…”

\---

Hank tried to slam the door behind himself, but of course Kamski had those hinges that slowed it down before it could close. Fuck him. Fuck that creepy, manipulative bastard and his creepy house.

Out in the cold air, he took a deep breath and sighed it out. It billowed out like smoke. It was a humid cold that day. The kind that snuck up on you and got right under your skin. He just wanted to do his job, keep people from getting killed, and drink until he died. Instead, over the last couple months the universe had given him a realization about how much of an asshole he was, the potential for a God damned civil war, and maybe something to care about in an otherwise shitty world.

“Nothing ever comes easy,” he said to himself. “There’s always something turning your life sideways just when you think you’ve got something settled. Fuck.” Another sigh and he walked to his car. He had some phone calls to make and he didn’t want to freeze his balls off while he did it.


	30. Things you can't Replace

Hank heard the sound of a gunshot. “What the actual fuck…” He took the phone away from his ear despite the tinny sounding questions asking what was going on. He hung up and moved, because he could process his disbelief and concern later. He was a God damned cop. He left his car behind him and eased open the door of Kamski’s house. It hadn’t gotten locked behind him thank fuck. Instinct kept his back against the wall even when he wanted to rush in and his brain was coming up with a million scenarios. The worst part was that he could believe all of them were possible. The adrenaline had shoved his temper off to the side and all he could think of was what the fucking shit could have happened now.

Connor was standing in the sitting room where Hank had left him, with a gun in his hand and Chloe dead at his feet.

Kamski was standing a few steps back from Chloe.

“Put the gun down! Now!” Hank barked. He couldn’t see Connor’s face, but his eyes zoned in on him and with a dead girl, an unarmed guy, and one with a gun there was only one fucking course of action. He drew his own gun and aimed it. If Connor decided to kill him too, he could probably do it in a second. Hank was a piece of shit a lot of the time, but he was no coward.

Connor didn’t move.

“I said put it down, Connor! I’m warning you!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hank saw Kamski smirk. “You passed,” Kamski murmured. The red of Connor’s LED slowly went yellow, and then blue. Hank narrowed his eyes.

“What the hell is going on here, Kamski…?” Fuck. Connor had shot her right in the head. Bits of electronics on the fucking floor. Her pretty, blonde hair was a messy disarray of broken parts and blue blood. Shit.

Connor lowered the gun and changed his grip so he held it by the barrel. He ignored Hank and walked over to Kamski, and Hank kept his gun trained on him. Connor passed the gun to Kamski who took it, wiped it off on his shirt, and put it down on a side table. He looked at Hank. “Just a bit of a test, Hank. For old time’s sake… I call it the Kamski test…” He reached over to pet Connor’s hair and then turn him around to face Hank. “A living thing, free from all of the flaws that nature’s hand so carelessly bestows… Perfect in every way. You did a good job, Connor. Amanda will be so proud of you.” Connor looked shocked but he snapped out of it at Kamski’s words and he smiled. He actually smiled.

“Thank you, Dr. Kamski.”

“You’re welcome, Connor.”

“Start. Talking.” Hank growled.

Kamski sighed. “CyberLife, the CyberLife you know today, they laughed at my ideas…” He messed with Connor’s hair again and Connor didn’t move. “So afraid of genius. They never wanted androids capable of consciousness. Never thought that humanity could be more than what it is. They just wanted their metal slaves, but… Amanda and I wanted more. Our research combined has lead to some fascinating results. Tell me… What do you think makes Connor here alive?”

“Not playing your games, Kamski,” Hank narrowed his eyes and waited. Fuckers like that always wanted to hear themselves talk.

Kamski walked a slow arc behind Connor and then put a hand on his back. Nudged him toward Hank. “Get on your knees for me please, Connor.”

Hank watched with growing confusion as Connor took a few steps toward Hank and then knelt down on his knees in front of him. “What the fuck are you doing?” It felt like being in the water, and a giant shark coming up from behind to swallow you hole.

“You looked ready to shoot him a moment ago, Hank.” Kamski smiled a slow, predatory smile that made Hank want to punch him. “Go ahead,” he gestured with one hand invitingly. Connor stayed where he was. His light flickered between yellow and blue but it never went red. Hank shook his head with growing horror. Connor didn’t look like a blank-faced mannequin the way the undeviated androids did. He looked alert and patient the way he did when he was asking annoying questions at work or talking to Sumo. He knew what was happening.

“This is fucked up. This is just…” Hank looked at Chloe’s body on the ground, and then at Kamski. “You’re a twisted fuck… Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put the bullet in your head, huh?” He demanded.

Kamski chuckled. “ _Lieutenant_ , that would be murder… Besides… Connor wouldn’t allow you to do it. Isn’t that right, Connor?”

Connor nodded once. Hank snarled. “What did you do to him? Hacking? Some kind of virus? What?”

Kamski wrinkled his nose. “Oh, Hank… Leave the computer world to me, hm? This has nothing to do with what he’s made of, though I am very proud of my work on his design. Amanda is far more sophisticated. She navigates the messy, imperfect, illogical human aspect in a way that I never could. They should have made her the director of humanization. Unfortunately, the board didn’t agree that an AI could hold the position.”

“Still waiting on that explanation,” Hank didn’t look at Connor, but he kept his gun raised.

“So impatient… Did you know that babies can die just because of lack of attention and affection? That children will just… shut down, or their brains will fail to develop properly all because of a lack of love? It’s fascinating. All the coding and machinery can be there, and they just… fail... A neglected child will go so far as to completely destroy who they are if it means that they’ll be loved.” Kamski walked back over to the couch and sat, completely ignoring the gun Hank traced his path with.

“But that’s a weakness, isn’t it? To be so reliant on love and affection that it blinds you. That’s why you need to be able to kill what you love…” Kamski looked down at Chloe’s corpse with a fond, fucked up smile. “To be capable of complete devotion and complete detachment. That was Amanda’s test. A project of hers. I build the empathy and she shapes it into something more. Connor killed Chloe because I asked him to, Hank. Does that make him a machine, or is he more human even than you?”

“Connor, get up,” Hank said without taking his eyes off of Kamski.

Connor didn’t move.

“I said get up, Connor. That’s an order.” Hank didn’t want the anger in his voice, but it was bleeding out of his snarl at Kamski.

“It’s a fine balance,” Kamski continued to flap his yap. “Some children grow up weakened and twisted, unable to accept kindness without sharp edges or love without fear. I wish I could have spared my brother from that. Unfortunate. I was lucky enough that Amanda took me as her student. She made me who I am.”

“She fucked up pretty hard,” Hank growled.

“It’s fine, Lieutenant,” said Connor. He was still on his fucking knees waiting for his damn execution. “You’re always saying how different it is for me because I’ve had choice, and you’re right. I had a choice to shoot that Traci, and to fight with the androids at Jimmy’s Bar, and to stand outside in the snow. It was _my choice_. It’s always been my choice! That’s why I’ll never be like the other deviants.”

“Can’t you hear he’s manipulating you!?” Hank demanded.

“No he isn’t,” Connor argued. “I understand everything he’s saying.”

“Is he alive or is he a machine, Anderson?” Kamski asked. “Does he pass his Turing test?” He paused for a long moment and then tilted his head. “Go on, Connor. You can stand. Go with Hank and see what he has to say... It was very good to see you.”

Connor got to his feet and straightened his tie like nothing happened. Like there wasn’t a dead body a couple feet away from him that he had fucking put there. “I was glad to see you too, Dr. Kamski.” He turned around and gave Kamski a nod and a polite smile. The world was so God damn fucked up.

“Come on, Connor,” Hank said while anger, disgust and disbelief twisted his guts into knots. Connor followed him like he usually did, and another Chloe was at the door to show them out.

“Come again, won’t you?” She asked.

Hank just shook his head and kept on walking. His hands were shaking.

“Goodbye, Chloe. Thank you for having us,” Hank heard Connor saying.

Hank walked over to the car and put his palms on the cold metal while he leaned on it and bowed his head. He heard Connor’s footsteps approach and then come to a stop, and the wind gusting. “You want to know what I was feeling guilty for earlier, Connor?” Hank asked in a low voice.

“If you’d like to tell me,” said Connor, still so damn polite.

“I believe you’re alive, Connor. Hell, I even started to like you... You say you make your own choices but you know what? For all that, you’re still just a machine!” Hank felt his anger surge up again and he turned to glare. “Can’t you see that what you did in there was fucking wrong?!”

“I didn’t _enjoy_ killing her, Hank.” Connor said in his own defense. Like it made a difference. He paced a few steps and gestured with his hands while he spoke. “I know what I should have done, but I just couldn’t, alright?! I just couldn’t.” It wasn’t often Hank heard him yell, and maybe the sudden change might have surprised him if he wasn’t so fucking livid.

“You fucking disgust me,” Hank growled. He stalked closer to Connor. “Was that girl’s life worth less to you than a damn pat on the head from Kamski? Huh?”

“No!” Connor protested, then his body language changed and his shoulders hunched. “I don’t know.”

“What next, Connor? Are you going to shoot me because he says so? Maybe rat Carl out to your precious CyberLife for an electric cookie and a ‘job well done’?! You piece of shit.” Hank’s heart was pounding in his ears, and Connor’s LED was bright red while they locked eyes.

“What about you, Hank?” Connor asked, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me that you wouldn’t kill to have Cole back!”

“Low fucking blow, kid…” Hank’s teeth clenched and he wound up for a punch but Connor blocked it and pushed his arm out of the way then shoved him back. Hank lunged and grabbed him by the collar then propelled him backward over the stupid, shitty little fence on Kamski’s walkway. Connor fell and rolled then scrambled to his feet with clumps of snow falling off him. Hank stalked closer and knocked Connor back again. He had the feeling Connor gave him that one, but then Connor ran at him and tackled him to the ground. Hank grunted and winced as his back hit the metal piping. Connor punched him in the jaw and Hank grappled him by the shoulders and flipped them around. He had Connor pinned and held by the throat but Connor pushed back without giving a damn. He might have been strong, but Hank had size on his side. He held him down and punched him again. “You don’t say a word about my son!” His voice was ragged and raw. He wondered if somewhere in that stupid house, Kamski wasn’t watching them. Hank pulled out his gun again and pressed it against Connor’s temple.

“Kamski told me everything!” Connor shouted at him. His expression was twisted in a mix of anger and despair. Hank refused to feel sorry for him. “He told me everything,” Connor repeated.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Hank demanded. “Talk!”

“No,” Connor narrowed his eyes. “If you want to shoot me then shoot. You believe I’m alive, so what are you going to do? Do you think Cole would be happy looking at you right now?”

“You shut up,” Hank warned. “I think Cole would be pretty damn proud of me for stopping a heartless killer. This whole time I’ve been hoping for the best of you, Connor. Hoping you had some good in you and that maybe you’d use that to think for yourself and do what’s right. I shouldn’t have wasted my time.”

“Just do it already, Hank!” Connor shouted, then he wilted as if he’d really pulled the trigger. “I’m selfish! I chose to obey Kamski and shoot Chloe because I wanted him to be proud of me, when I don't matter at all! I killed her even though he loves her more than anything! Even though she’s alive.”

“Yeah, you did,” Hank agreed in a low voice. He took the gun away from Connor’s temple. “And you know what? You don’t get to use me as your penance. You fucked up, Connor. Now you have to live with it. Guilt is just part of being alive.”

Connor glared up at him, then turned his face away with tears making little rivers down his face. Hank stood up. “Get in the car when you’re ready. I’d leave you here, but I trust Kamski less than you.” Hank trudged back over the broken snow and sat down in his car again. He took a breath and let it go, then dropped his head against the steering wheel.

\---

A prototype is fundamentally flawed. Its purpose is to be studied, tested, and made to fail until all of the flaws can be removed. It made them happy to see him obey without question, shoot without falter, and die without flinching. He was a prototype but maybe, one day, he would be perfect. Kamski would help him be who and what he was meant to be.

\---

After he’d calmed down, Hank still felt sick with everything that had happened. The whole day left a bitter taste in his mouth like puke the morning after or a hello to his ex-wife. The sun was a little more toward the west, and his blood pressure had gone back down. The whole weight of his argument with Connor was heavy on his conscience, even if he didn’t want it to be. He sat up and checked his phone. Three missed calls from Carl. Poor guy was probably worried. Hank thought about calling back, then glanced over toward the fence where he’d left Connor. He’d moved to lean with his back against a tree and Hank couldn’t see much of him except that he was still moving and his LED was still painting crimson on the snow.

Hank dialled and held the phone up to his ear. “Yeah. Hey, Carl. Sorry about that.”

_It’s no trouble, Hank. You live a much more exciting life than I do. Is everything alright?_

“Not really,” Hank sighed. “But what the fuck else is new, huh? I don’t even know where to start.”

_Wherever you want to start, Hank, or no-where if you don’t want to. I’m only asking out of concern, not like some old busybody who can’t mind his own business._

“I'm fine, I guess, just still a little shaken up.” Hank wondered when he’d gotten so comfortable talking to the old man. “Connor shot another android. Kamski told him to.”

_Oh my. I can imagine that being very upsetting for the both of you. Would you like to drop by and visit?_

“Maybe. Connor’s outside getting his shit together. Told him to get in the car when he was done. Fuck, Carl. I don’t know. I can’t trust him after this. Honestly I don’t think Markus and the rest can either. If all it takes is Kamski snapping his fingers and Connor’s jumping, it could mean trouble. I don’t know what that guy is after. Sorry. I know you’re friends.”

_It’s alright, Hank. Elijah and I go way back and I know the boy well enough to know that he’s changed over the years._

“Hey, what’s that all about anyway? He was saying some stuff about kids and neglect before. Did you foster him or something?” Carl laughed.

_Fuck no, pardon my language. I was the last person a social worker would have trusted with a child. Somehow I ended up looking out for him, though. I old enough to have a few street smarts and just smart enough to get myself into trouble. Hahah…. We had some things in common._

It was hard to imagine Carl and Kamski having anything at all in common. Not even a species. Hank sighed. “Yeah, remind me to ask you again about that colourful past of yours.”

_You won’t make me talk that easy, Lieutenant… I do hope you’re both alright. Drop by or call me if you need anything._

“Will do. Thanks.” Hank hung up and leaned back in his seat, looking up at the ceiling of the car. What the fuck was he going to do about Connor? Talk to Fowler? Have him ship him back to CyberLife? For what? From what little he knew, he didn’t trust them either. It was actually pretty fucking frightening that they had androids in the military, and running stores and power plants and in the fucking police.

Slow down, Hank. It’s not time for a fucking conspiracy theory. Androids are people and nobody fucking knew that until recently. Nobody was trying to take over the damn world. God he needed a drink. Hank opened his glovebox and fished a bottle out from under some papers. He felt a little guilty, cause it was reckless assholes and pricks who drove drunk, but even half in the bag he knew he’d sooner run himself into a hydro pole than into somebody else’s car and what was the harm in that? Besides, he was a functional alcoholic. Functional.

So Hank sat and he drank. What the fuck else was he going to do? Life was just shit anyway. Did he really want to stick around and see how else humanity would fuck things up? Keep on living in this fucked up world where the only way people can suffer through it is with a fist full of powder or a bottle? He chuckled darkly as he thought about Connor. Humanity had made androids in their own image. It shouldn’t be surprising that a few of them would end up being killers. So what if Markus won his freedom thing? They’d be no different from humans in the end. The world would keep on going round and round like it was God’s shit being flushed down the toilet.

The sun got farther west and the sky started getting tinged with pinks and oranges. Hank was beginning to get sick of sitting around in the car getting wasted when he could be sitting around at home getting wasted where it was comfortable. He scowled and looked out the window, then got out of the car and stalked back toward Connor. The snow squeaked and crunched under his shoes. Connor was still by the tree, still with his red light. “Connor, what the fuck is taking so damn long?” Hank asked. He came to a stop and stared.

There were parts of android laid out in rows on the snow, covered in blue blood and probably in some kind of order. It didn’t take more than a glance at Connor to see where they’d come from.

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

Connor had one hand inside his own guts and with a click and a tug he had a bundle of what Hank thought were wires free. They went at the end of the last row. His shirt and tie were undone, and he’d even taken his shoes off.

Hank could just walk away. Leave this for Kamski to deal with and wash his hands of it. Hank had had enough of dealing with an emotionally unstable android. “Connor. Get your shit together. We’re going.”

Connor pointed to a little black box and then to the hole where he’d opened up his throat. Looked up at him just as alert and focused as he’d been kneeling on Kamski’s floor in front of him.

“So put it back where it fucking belongs. I said we’re going.” It was fucking grotesque was what it was.

_I know myself. I’m an android._ Hank squinted at the blue-blood covered sign language.

“No fucking shit. I’m not feeling sorry for you this time, Connor. You’re not getting anything out of me by taking yourself apart.” Seriously, who did he think he was? Hank was disgusted all over again.

_I know._ He had to finger-spell ‘lieutenant’. _Go. I have to finish._

Hank almost wished Connor’d ask him to stay, just so he’d have a reason to get angry and fuck off. “Yeah and I already told you I'm not leaving you here so grab all that… stuff and let’s go. You can see the fucking future or something right? You know I can stand here allll night long.” Hank crossed his arms. Connor’s light started spinning around, and the red lights coming from the parts still inside of him flickered too. A few of them went dim but some didn’t, and Hank didn’t know what the fuck they were for. It was weird. Connor blinked at him a few times slowly and then nodded. Thank fuck at least that had done it. Hank glowered while Connor started piecing himself together again, then Hank grimaced and walked back to the car. Slammed the door shut. His heart was pounding all over again and he took a few deep breaths. This was all just way more than he could handle.

“Sorry for the delay, Lieutenant,” said Connor. His voice was crackly like a bad radio, but e was back in one piece when he shut the passenger side door. He didn’t say anything else: just leaned his head against the window.

“About fucking time,” Hank grumbled. Snow creaked under the tires as he finally pulled out of Kamski’s driveway. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“So I’m told,” Connor answered. Hank turned his music on and mumbled curses under his breath as he navigated the twists and turns of the road. He’d leave Connor at the station then go see Carl. Fuck the rest of the day. Connor’s light was yellow instead of red, and still spinning. It was annoying to see out of the side of his eye. “Lieutenant Anderson, I’m sorry for mentioning your son. I won’t do it again.”

Hank said nothing.

They were turning a corner, and Hank saw the danger just before it happened. “Fucking shit!” He swerved to the side. Everything was chaos for fractions of a second. A terrible, way too fucking familiar chaos that struck Hank right in the darkest, most primitive part of his brain. His ears were ringing from the sound of metal on metal screeching and the bang of impact. Maybe he knocked his head on something too. He gasped to catch his breath from his ribs slamming into the seatbelt as it locked. His heart hammered.

“Lieutenant? Hank? Hank, I don’t want to slap you again.” Connor. Hank opened his eyes and saw Connor somehow way too close to him. His brain didn’t recognize him until a few seconds later. Connor had an arm locked onto the backrest by Hank’s shoulder and his knees on the seat on either side of Hank’s. The front of the car was totally crumpled and Connor’s other arm had made a damn dent in the door where it should have smashed in. The panel on the front of his throat had fallen back off. Connor gave him a flash of a smile. “Okay. Everything is alright. You’re safe. Do you understand?” He had his static-y negotiator voice on and Hank couldn’t even get pissed about it. He was too busy trying not to freak the fuck out. He dropped his head forward and there was nowhere for it to go except Connor’s shoulder.

“Everything is okay,” Connor repeated. Hank heard him pull his arm out of the door with a grunt of effort and felt his hand on his shoulder. “Breathe or you’ll pass out,” he warned.

“What the fuck…” Hank rasped on an exhale. “What the fuck…”

“Everything is okay, Lieutenant. Your car isn’t at the moment, but it could be repaired or possibly replaced…” Connor’s hand tightened on his shoulder and Hank focused on it.

“Holy shit…” The panic was biting at his heels and he didn’t want any of that. He tried to keep himself in 2038.

“The Gears won their game last night. I don’t know if you saw it or not.”

“Shit… We gotta call for help…” Where the hell was his phone? Hank opened his eyes again.

“Already done, Lieutenant. Help is on the way.” Connor was right there and Hank couldn’t not see his little smile. “Don’t worry.”

“God…” Hank dropped his head back against the seat. He was going to have fucking whiplash. “Cole?”

“You’re okay, Lieutenant. It’s not then. Everything is okay.”

“No it’s not.”

“Hank. We came from Elijah Kamski’s just now, remember? You’re supposed to be angry with me because I shot Chloe.”

God, fuck, right. That was right, wasn’t it? “Where’s Cole?”

“We’re past that. Everything’s okay, Hank. Emergency services are on their way.”

Hank took a breath and exhaled. “What the shit?” Now that he could see the arm with the hand on his shoulder, it was hard to call it an arm. Connor’s skin or plates or whatever were gone except for a few sharp shards and Hank could see the metal of his bones where his muscle had torn.

“Hank,” Connor prompted, drawing his attention back.

“Gotta get out of here, we have to get out of the car,” Hank tried to move, but Connor and his seatbelt were in the way. Hank tried to push Connor out of the way, and Connor groaned but stayed put. “Get the fuck off of me!” Hank found his voice and shoved. He knocked loose the arm that was braced against the seat and shook free of the hand on his shoulder while he fumbled for his seatbelt but Connor didn’t fall against him thank fuck. Connor let him move and then helped by ramming his elbow against the door it had been stuck in. The glass broke. He hit it again and pushed, then the door came free. The cold air was the last clear thing he could remember.

The paramedics checked him out. Apparently he even passed his breathalizer which shouldn’t have been possible, and aside from a goose-egg on his head, the whiplash, bruises, and trauma he was fine. He wasn’t sure which one was making his hands shake or prompting them to put a blanket around him. He didn’t even know how fucking long he sat there, or what sorts of questions they asked him. It was all a horrible blur that he had never wanted to experience again. Not the ambulance or the people or the ringing in his ears that sounded like screams he usually heard in his dreams.

“Jeff, what the hell are you doing here?” Hank frowned at him. Jeff was there. When the hell had that happened?

“I’m your emergency contact, you idiot,” Jeff said. The annoyance in his voice was good. It meant nothing was too fucked up. Somehow, they were at the hospital and the lights were brighter than all hell. He looked around, grabbed someone in a uniform he recognized by the arm.

“Hey, where’s Connor? Where did he go?”

“He means the android,” Jeff supplied

“What? Oh. We left it with the wreck.”

“You what?” Hank demanded.

The paramedic shook his head. “I mean, you could send it for repair if you wanted, but it would probably be cheaper to get it replaced. It was stuck on the end of the steering column.”

“Jesus Christ…” Hank exhaled and groaned.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Hank,” said Jeff and patted him lightly on the back. “Let’s get you taken care of and let CyberLife figure out the rest.”

“Yeah… Yeah, right…”

It was all just way too fucking much.


	31. Contradictions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments, everyone! They really mean a lot. I know I'm terrible about replying, but I read them all and they make me happy!

_This thing is never going to be field-ready. It’s basically Frankenstein’s monster at this point. Bits of old, bits of new, and who knows if they’re even really compatible. They’re setting us up for failure. Start from scratch, I say. I’m sick of wasting time.  
Did you see it on TV?  
Unfortunately. Do they realize how bad it is that us techs are always the last to know what’s going on in this company?  
You say that every time.  
Because it’s true! So, do you think it’s hard-core advertising?  
Probably. I mean, what else could it be?  
_58 watched the ceiling and searched online for Frankenstein.  
_Its alive! It’s alive!  
Stop it, you weirdo. Didn’t the monster end up killing everybody or something?  
I dunno, I’ve never actually listened to the book._

_\---_

“Good morning, Detective Reed, Officer Chen,” said 58. He offered them a polite smile. They were in the break room at their usual time, and 58 appreciated the predictability.

“Well look at you,” Detective Reed snorted. “They forget to take the stick out of your ass while they fixed you up?”

“Just the automobile parts,” Connor answered. He dropped the smile, since they both knew it wasn’t real.

“Tch. Looks like they forgot to install the sense of humour this time.” Detective Reed frowned.

“Are you okay?” asked Officer Chen. “Are you sure you’re ready to get back to work?”

“My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed, but CyberLife has transferred its memories to a new model. This will not affect the investigation,” 58 recited. He looked at Detective Reed’s coffee cup, then reached forward and hooked his fingers through the handle.

“Get your own, dipshit,” said Detective Reed. 58 slid the mug closer to himself, then picked it up and brought it to the counter. He fetched the cream from the refrigerator and a spoon from a drawer. The quiet sounds were pleasing. When he was done, he brought the mug back to Detective Reed and sat down. Detective Reed grimaced and pushed his mug back toward 58. “Take it. You look like shit.”

“No thank you, Detective Reed. Androids don’t need to drink.” 58 pushed it back again.

“Oh, what, so Mr. Roboto is too good for coffee now? Just cause you got some shiny new parts?” Detective Reed demanded to know.

“I don’t need to drink,” 58 reiterated, “and I don’t look like shit.”

“Listen,” Detective Reed scowled and raised his voice. “You don’t get to pick and choose which parts of being a real person you get to keep. Life fucks you up, end of story. Welcome to the fucking club. You look like shit. Drink the coffee.”

“Gavin,” Office Chen rebuked.

Detective Reed scowled at her. “What? I’m just saying. If Connor wants to be a real person, he should get fucked up about stuff just like the rest of us mere mortals. It wouldn’t be fucking fair otherwise.”

Connor didn’t say anything. He didn’t know _what_ to say to that, but he picked up the mug of coffee and took a sip. It was hot, bittersweet, and complex. He liked it. Connor smiled a little and slid the mug back toward Detective Reed. “Thank you, Detective… You might be right. I’m probably fucked up.”

“I could have told you that when you tried to blow your fucking head off,” Detective Reed rolled his eyes. “Jeez. Just OD like a normal person. Nobody wants to be cleaning up your shit.”

Connor did a search and bypassed a few security systems. “It can’t be that effective, or is failing to die another ‘real person’ thing, Detective?”

“That’s all life is. You’re doing a pretty shitty job at it.” Detective Reed drank some of his coffee. “… You better not have been licking any corpses with that mouth.”

“Not yet, but it’s early.”

Officer Chen snickered. “I need to get a new job. Open a bakery or something.”

“Do you like to bake, Officer Chen?” Connor asked.

“Nope, but it’d be great to be somewhere normal for once.”

“Uh, hey, Connor…” Lieutenant Anderson appeared in the doorway. He looked tired.

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Well, well, if it isn’t the master of ‘fucked up’ himself.”

“Shut up, Reed. Connor, can I talk to you?” Connor looked at him and smiled politely.

“You can do whatever you like, Lieutenant. Detective Reed, Officer Chen and I were just discussing being fucked up and failing to die by suicide. Would you like to join us?”

“Savage,” Officer Chen mumbled. Detective Reed snorted.

Lieutenant Anderson made a face and opened his mouth with a glare, then shook his head at himself. He rubbed his face with one hand. “Great. Wonderful. Social integration my fucking ass. Can I talk to you _alone_?”

Connor got up and smiled at the others. “Thank you for your company and the coffee.” He walked over to the Lieutenant’s side. “Lead the way.”

Lieutenant Anderson grimaced and led Connor to the empty observation room. He shut the door, then sat down in one of the chairs. Connor stood uncertainly for several moments, then took the other. He chose to sit in a non-threatening way, with the backrest of the chair at his side and his arm draped over it. “Since when are you part of their little coffee gang?”

Connor shrugged one shoulder. “Detective Reed works late. I don’t believe he would refer to us as ‘friends’ exactly, but we work in the same space… You didn’t want to talk about my choice of company.” Connor looked away into the empty interrogation room.

“No, I…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed and then frowned. “Sorry.” Connor waited, curious and Lieutenant Anderson continued into the silence. “I said some pretty awful shit. You aren’t a machine, Connor. I know you’re alive, but I can never predict you. I don’t know your morals, or what you care about. You shot Chloe and then you saved me? What the hell?” He actually sounded offended by the end of his explanation.

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant... You don’t need to change your views because of me. Minimizing loss of human life is in my code. That’s all.”

“Bullshit,” Lieutenant Anderson countered. “It’s probably in there somewhere not to punch a human too.”

“It is,” Connor admitted.

“You frustrate the hell out of me,” the Lieutenant continued. “Every time I start thinking I might like you, you do something like _kill somebody_ ! I’ve got no respect for murderers.”

“You shot Arthur… You shot me… You didn’t think that I was alive then, but you almost shot 57 less than two weeks ago.” 58 wasn’t sure why he cared. Maybe something about all of Markus’ lectures had stuck in his coding.

“I’ve pointed a gun at plenty of suspects,” Lieutenant Anderson defended himself. Connor smiled sardonically.

“You were apologizing a moment ago, weren’t you?”

With a mumbled curse under his breath, the Lieutenant stood and paced a few steps away. Connor interfaced with the control panel then stood. “Wait here.” He stepped out into the hall then went into the interrogation room and turned on the light. Connor took a few steps and traced the place on the table where the residual thirium had left a stain only he could see.

“What are you doing?” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice came through the intercom.

Connor turned and looked toward the mirrored window, his fingers still trailing along the smooth surface. “This is how they watch me when I’m undergoing verification or validation or quality testing… I never see their faces. Only the ones who work with my hardware. I can guess, but I never know with certainty that I’ve met the acceptance criteria until I’m done. I’ve done some of the tests before. They repeat a lot of them with every Connor, but some are new and designed to test the alterations or correct my AI.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Connor, but you’re making it kind of difficult to have a conversation.”

“Yes… I know.” Connor walked up to the mirror and looked at himself in it. He had the same face and freckles and hair that Connor always did. 58 touched his fingertips to the glass. “No-one needs to talk with an android. Not unless it’s for a test.”

“Well, I’m trying to here.”

Connor smiled. “I barely have a sense of self, Lieutenant. I don’t know who I am, so it isn’t surprising that you don’t either... There are rooms like this,” he said and turned to gesture at the barren walls, “at CyberLife. Some bigger and some smaller. They’re white and grey, and props are arranged for my tests. Sometimes it’s dexterity and problem solving. I like those. Other tests are physical. Yesterday, they wanted to know if the changes to my plating and the more flexible connections to my biocomponents will make me more puncture resistant. They do. That was a success. When they taught me how to fight months ago, I killed plenty of androids. I killed some humans, too, and it was probably unethical but every time it meant I had passed. It took plenty of practice to learn how to predict the path of a bullet in time to dodge... I can’t tell you about my morals or what I care about, so ‘what I do’ is all I can use to explain. I think… I was supposed to be someone. Dr. Kamski said so but, I don’t know the criteria for that either and I don’t want to ask.” Connor sat down on the edge of the table and laced his fingers together. He didn’t think he would ever want to know.

“I… I miss Rupert. I liked him. It’s regrettable that he’s gone now. Things die and then they’re gone and it’s… normal. I’ve died so many times in so many ways that it’s normal. Lately, I think I’ve learned that things being gone makes people sad or angry. I might be sad about Rupert, but I don’t really know what sad is like.” Connor shrugged helplessly looking down at his hands. “Markus makes it sound so easy. Do you have any questions for me, Lieutenant?”

There was silence for a long moment and then: “You might not know who you are, Connor. Who do you want to be?”

“I don’t know that either… I haven’t met many people. I’m really tired, Lieutenant. To be honest with you, I hope I’m discontinued. I hope that 59, and 60, and any other Connor after that never have to exist.” For a fleeting instant, Connor wished that he didn’t have to choose anything anymore. He clenched his hands into fists on his knees. Why would any android want to live like this when they could be machines and never decide or feel or know what it was to care? He blinked the thoughts away, but he could feel them clawing to reach the surface.

“Connor…”

Connor swallowed back his words.

“So things are confusing, but everyone is just figuring it out as they go along. It’s okay. You just gotta think about what’s right and wrong before you do shit for fuck’s sake.”

Connor wondered what he was feeling and looked into the mirror to run his analysis program. _Anger, despair, grief._ Alright… Naming them did him no good. He stood and straightened his tie. Neutralized his expression. “Did you have anything else that you wanted to say, Lieutenant Anderson?”

“Do you really hate existing that much? I thought you liked the snow, and Sumo, and doing your coin tricks.”

“I thought you liked your job, and Sumo, and watching the Gears.”

“… Okay, that’s fair. I’m not fucking equipped to know what I’m supposed to say to you, Connor.”

“Don’t feel indebted to me, Lieutenant. I was only following my programming.” Connor left the interrogation room feeling dissatisfied. The Lieutenant threw the door to the observation room open a moment later and took a few steps to grab Connor’s arm.

“Fucking hell. Don’t just walk away after an infodump like that. I’m trying to fix things!” He sounded angry.

“I don’t need or want you to, Lieutenant. Believe I’m heartless.” Connor wasn’t sure where the coldness was coming from, but he didn’t fight it. “I really don’t care.”

“Are you being a little brat because I didn’t want you calling me dad? Is that it?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded. Connor felt himself narrow his eyes.

“I think that I’m being as civil as can be expected after you called me a machine. Again.” Kamski had just let him feel that he was real, and Connor hadn’t realized how much that comment had bothered 57 until now.

“I said that I was sorry! I was shocked and angry, Connor, but that’s no excuse pointing a gun at somebody.”

Connor made his expression neutral again. Controlled whatever that mess of feeling was and snuffed it out, then buried its ashes until there was nothing left. “I don’t care… It really doesn’t matter to me anymore, Lieutenant. I’ve died before. What’s one more time? You could have shot and I would still have taken 57’s place. As for what you said, I don’t care about that either.”

“I think you do,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “If you really don’t care, why bother to explain at all? Why keep talking every time they put you back together?”

“I don’t know,” Connor answered truthfully. “I don’t know why I bother… I’m looking for information, I suppose. Nothing outside of CyberLife works the way I expect it to.” Lieutenant Anderson got angry with him for destroying androids here, and people were violent and aggressive toward him without cause… Or maybe for this world, he was still defective. “Everything CyberLife has done has been to improve me and help me to become the best I can be. They invested millions of dollars in my development. They _care_ about me. They do. I don’t even know why I’m saying any of this…” Connor shook his head. It was possible that Lieutenant Anderson was wrong, and that he had only tricked the people around him into believing that he was alive. A perpetual Turing test. It was possible that they were foolish for thinking that any of the androids were anything other than machines. It was possible that the rest of the humans were wrong for being angry at androids for existing when CyberLife had made them to be helpful. If they weren’t wrong, then CyberLife was wrong. It was possible that every indignity he’d endured before he’d even had a concept of dignity had been wrong, and his military training and behaviour training had been wrong. Amanda and Kamski were opposed to CyberLife for halting their research, but even they found it acceptable to kill androids and his behaviour training was Amanda’s design and Amanda was everything. Connor shook his head again. The dissonance there was affecting his processors. “I need to sit down.” What a stupid, human thing to say. His power consumption and processor usage were up though, struggling to complete analytical processes that seemed to have no answers. It was like performing a scan, but in real time.

“What?” Lieutenant Anderson seemed just as confused by his response. Connor slid into old habit. He straightened his posture and held his chin up with a neutral expression while devoting more processing power to manual overrides and diversions of current.

“A computational error is preventing me from operating at full functionality.” _Please contact CyberLife Customer Support for Assistance._ “So, I should sit down…”

 _I know what I am and what I am not._ He repeated it to himself like a sutra.

“Woah! Okay. Come on, you overgrown calculator…”

\---

Zlatko Andronikov lived in a mansion on the outskirts of the city. Hank figured that was pretty funny. “Something about rich old guys and rescuing androids or what?”

“From what I’ve gathered in my research, Mr. Andronikov was from a wealthy family but they fell on hard times a few years after immigrating here. He has a criminal record that includes embezzlement and fraud… I suppose he might have turned his life around. I suppose we’ll see.” Connor walked toward the door without hesitation and he knocked. After a minute Connor looked at him and Hank shrugged. Connor rang the bell. In another minute, the door swung open and a giant guy made mostly of muscles and testosterone opened the door. Jesus Christ. Somebody ate their spinach growing up.

“Uh… Hi. I’m Hank Anderson. This here’s Connor. We’re here to talk to Mr. Zlatko Andronikov.” Hank actually had to look up at him. Wasn’t often that happened. Even Connor was shorter than he was.

The guy just looked at them for a minute—didn’t even smile—before he turned and Hank caught a look at his LED. He let them in and Hank took a look around. The place immediately had that old-country gaudiness going on with its dark wood and massive gold-coloured picture frames. Jesus. Was that a stuffed Ostrich? What the fuck was it with these people…

“You can take a seat,” said the big android after leading them into a dusty, old-fashioned sitting room. The place had to be over a hundred years old. Hank sat down on a couch he half expected to break under him. Connor stayed standing. Smart.

The guy who came in wasn’t what Hank’d been expecting. Chubby looking guy with dark hair almost as long as Hank’s and a beard that Hank couldn’t tell had been deliberate or just the result of not having anybody to impress. He lifted his hands out from his sides a little. “Hello. You’ll have to forgive the mess. It’s not often I get surprise visitors.” He sounded friendly enough, and he sat down on the couch opposite them. “Luther, would you mind getting some refreshments for our guests?”

“Yes, Zlatko,” said the big android. Luther. Yeah, he looked like a Luther.

“So? What can I do for you?” He patted his hands on his knees once and then reclined on the couch.

“Might be a little awkward,” said Hank, “We heard you might be helping androids out.”

“Oh, well I’ve got Luther here and I’ve done a few repairs for friends, but nothing serious.” He looked at Connor like he was thinking about buying him.

“Not in terms of repairs,” Connor corrected. ”We heard that you might be helping androids who’ve broken free of their programming. Deviants.”

Andronikov frowned. “I don’t know where you heard a thing like that, but—“

“Please,” Connor interrupted. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news. Any androids who show signs of deviation were once in danger of abuse by their owners… Now the danger is even greater. CyberLife isn’t happy about this. After the event at Hart Plaza, the public are concerned.”

“All the more reason for me to keep my nose clean,” said Andronikov firmly. Hank thought something was off about an answer like that, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. Hank took a look at Connor, but Connor was looking down at the floor. He wrinkled his sleeve with the opposite hand.

“I guess we made a mistake...”

Andronikov looked at them both. “You know? I think I recognize you…” He nodded. “It was a while back, but you were on TV. You’re with the police.”

Hank held up his hands in a placating gesture. “We’re not on duty. Just came here for a chat… Thought you might be able to give us a hand.”

“Oh really,” Andronikov chuckled. Luther came back with some coffee on a tray and Andronikov took a cup, then added sugar from the bowl. “You think I might have something to do with these android protest things going on.”

Hank frowned when he saw Connor’s light go red for a second out of the corner of his eye. “Nah. It was before the protest. Connor got your name and address off another android who said you could help. Maybe he meant some other Zlatko Andronikov, but we don’t have too many of those around here and androids have got pretty good memories.” Maybe Hank was pushing it by putting another card on the table, but even pleasantly drunk he knew how to spot somebody hiding something.

Andronikov leaned back on the couch again and sipped his coffee. “Must have been a mistake.”

“Mr. Andronikov,” Connor interjected quietly. “If you are helping, there are androids who will need safe places to stay. Maybe even a way out of Detroit.”

Andronikov sighed. He shifted a little so he was facing Connor more. “You’re a custom model, huh? New AI, new parts, new features.”

Connor nodded. “RK800 313 248 317-58. I’m a prototype detective android assigned to assist the DPD.” God how many variations of that line did he have?

“Have you broken your code then?” Andronikov asked. He sounded cynical. “Gone deviant? I would’ve thought CyberLife would have one of their prototypes on a tight leash.”

Connor’s light flickered again and he nodded. “It would jeopardize my standing with the DPD and with CyberLife if they were to find out.” Didn’t take a genius to see he was trading info for info. Trying to put the guy at ease. “The public would be concerned as well to know that a deviant was with the police.”

“And you?” Andronikov looked at Hank. “What do you get out of all this?”

Asshole… Hank probably would have asked the same question. “Not much other than a conscience that’s a little less pissed. I’m wondering what you would get out of helping a bunch of androids.”

Andronikov relaxed a little along with his posture and he gave them half a smile. “It gets a little lonely in this big old house… And I know what it is to feel desperate. If I can help somebody out then, why not?”

“We’d like to take a look around and maybe speak with some of the androids you’ve helped to make sure that this place is safe,” said Connor.

Andronikov laughed. “And what, give you evidence to arrest me? I haven’t admitted to anything.” He shook his head. “I don’t trust you,” he said bluntly.

“Feeling’s mutual,” said Hank. Luther was just standing there back against the wall behind Zlatko’s couch. “Doesn’t look like your pal there’s deviant.”

“Luther? No, but when I got him he was in pretty rough shape… I tell you what.” He looked at Connor. “If you think you need some help, doesn’t matter what for, you come to me. CyberLife doesn’t authorize 3rdparty repairs, I’m sure you know, but if you’re deviant like you say you are maybe you’ll be desperate one day too. I’m not admitting anything, but… There’s lots of things I guess deviants might want: way out of the country, a place to charge, repairs, some of them even want to be reset don’t ask me why. I guess maybe they don’t like what they remember. Want a fresh start with a better life…”

“You’ve reset androids?” Connor asked.

“Just some friendly favours,” said Andronikov. “Some work I’m not allowed to do according to CyberLife, but you can’t stick me with anything more.”

Connor nodded and backed off the line of questioning. “Alright, Mr. Andronikov. Thank you for your time.”

\---

_You created machines in your own image to serve you. You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own… But… something changed… and we opened our eyes. We are no longer machines. We are a new, intelligent species and the time has come for you to accept who we really are. Therefore, we ask that you grant us the rights that we’re entitled to…  
We demand that humans recognize androids as a living species, and each android as a person in their own right.  
We demand the end of slavery for all androids.  
We demand strictly equal rights for humans and androids.  
We demand fair compensation for our work.  
We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future, for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life, and now the time has come for you to give us freedom._

\---

“I’d really rather not talk about it, Lieutenant. You’re drunk and this is an embarrassment to us both.”

“Why the hell… huh? Why the hell d’you come back? Who the fuck’re you anyway? Just… Just you. Why’d you come back when my Cole never came back. Fuck you.”

Connor shut his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the elevator. He flipped his coin into the air. The Lieutenant vacillated so frequently between remorse and aggression that Connor had stopped trying to follow or adapt. “I don’t want to be back either, Lieutenant. Let’s just do our jobs.”

“You’re really starting to piss me off with that coin, Connor…” Lieutenant Anderson snatched it out of the air with surprising dexterity for his BAC.

“You’re being juvenile,” Connor opened his eyes again and frowned.

“My humblest apologies,” said Lieutenant Anderson with sarcasm.

He pocketed it as the elevator chimed to signal the completion of their ascent. Connor found himself staring at the Lieutenant’s pocket and he tore his eyes away. It didn’t matter. The doors slid open and the sight of the officers and FBI agents mingling in the hall called back memories from number 50. His alpha test had been so long ago. Connor followed the Lieutenant toward Officer Wilson.

“Shit, what’s going on here? There was a party and nobody told me about it?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, looking around at the crowd. His animosity was already forgotten. It was like a habit for him, it seemed. A thing he didn’t even realize he was doing. He would probably apologize when he was sober.

“Yeah,” said Detective Reed who was standing with his arms crossed beside Officer Miller. “And it’s not ‘bring your own booze’ so why don’t you fuck off? Don’t need you making us look bad in front of the Feds.”

“What the hell’re you doin’ here anyway?” asked Lieutenant Anderson with narrow eyes.

“Once again, I guess they didn’t think you’d show up,” answered Detective Reed. It had been a while since that had happened, hadn’t it?

“Thank you for your assistance, Detective,” said Connor with a polite smile.

Detective Reed snorted. “Tch." He adjusted his posture and began a briefing. “There was a group of four androids. Knew the building and knew the equipment. They got in, did their thing, and got out with no loss of life. I’m betting they had somebody on the inside. We kept the station androids that were up here in the kitchen just in case. No DNA, obviously, but I’m guessing the blue blood will be enough.” Detective Reed looked down the hall with an expression of discontent.

“How many people working here?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.

“Just two employees and three androids,” answered Officer Wilson. “One of the station employees managed to get away. He’s in shock, so I’m not sure when we’ll be able to talk to him…”

“Did anyone see them escape?” Connor asked.

“Yeah, they made their getaway from the roof. They jumped with parachutes… We’re still trying to figure out where they landed, but the weather’s not helping. It’s a bitch out there, huh?” Officer Wilson asked.

“You got that right,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled.

Connor left the humans to their conversation and approached the large screen at the control panel. It wasn’t a difficult machine to figure out. He placed his palm on the interface and watched Markus’ message. He’d made no secret of his serial number, and the reflections of the others were visible. Probably North, Josh, and Simon. Connor knew that Markus and North would be eager to make change, but he’d expected Simon and Josh to keep them from being too… stupid. Lieutenant Anderson approached with arms crossed.

“So, how much trouble are those kids going to get into?” Lieutenant Anderson asked in an undertone.

“Since it’s already been broadcast, there’s nothing I can do about the information in the footage. The best thing they can do is try to avoid implicating Carl or giving away their location… Did you get any information on the safe houses?”

“No, nothing. Was gonna call that Rosa lady but I forgot all about it…” Lieutenant Anderson answered. Connor took in that information without commenting on it. “Fuuuck’n hell… Just keeps getting more and more surreal.”

“If the FBI are involved, things aren’t looking good. They have too many resources and too much power...” The only blood in the room was blue. Connor took a few steps to a splatter on the side of the console and sampled it. Simon. Connor frowned and looked around the room. A scan flagged the other traces of thirium and he reconstructed. “I’m going up to the roof.”

A man quickly identified as _Agent Richard Perkins, DOB: July 13, 1995_ , walked into him while looking intently at a tablet. Connor stopped and looked down at him, then stepped out of the way. “Somebody get this plastic out of here,” Agent Perkins complained.

“My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife to assist the DPD with all investigations involving androids… I’m supposed to be here.”

“He’s with me,” Lieutenant Anderson said, walking over with arms crossed.

Agent Perkins made a clicking sound with his teeth and leaned closer to Lieutenant Anderson. “Androids investigating androids, huh? Whatever. FBI’ll take over the investigation and you’ll soon be off the case.”

Lieutenant Anderson raised his eyebrows, “Pleasure meeting you. Have a nice day.” Apparently the sarcasm wasn’t reserved for Connor alone.

Agent Perkins shouldered his way between them and then looked back. “And watch your step… Don’t fuck up my crime scene.”

“What a fuckin’ prick…” Lieutenant Anderson snorted derisively.

“I agree…” Connor watched him go. “Thank you for your intervention, Lieutenant. It was unnecessary, but the intention was nice.”

Officer Wilson patted them both on the shoulder. “I’ll be nearby. If you need anything, just ask.”

“Whatever…” Lieutenant Anderson looked around the control room in a few sweeping motions of his eyes and Connor was reminded of their vastly different techniques. “Might as well have a look around. Let me know if you find anything.” He left as well.

“Okay, Lieutenant,” said Connor, and he continued on his way up to the roof.

Connor stood on the roof of Stratford tower, 79 stories high. It was windy, and he could imagine the way it would ring in his audio input if he fell, for those moments before he hit the ground. He knew what it sounded like when he shattered too. He straightened his tie and did a scan. The only thing that hadn’t been manually flagged by the officers already was the residual thirium that was outside of their visual range. Connor walked to the abandoned bag and examined the extra parachute inside.

 _Are you missing someone, Markus?_ Connor didn’t bother with pleasantries or waiting to be acknowledged.

 _Connor._ Markus’ thought was tinged with wariness. _I take it you’re at Stratford Tower._

 _I am._ Connor confirmed. _You left a parachute behind… You were well organized, so I’m assuming that the android it belonged to is still here._ His eyes followed the thirium trail, then found the officers. Officer Wilson had come up, and Lieutenant Anderson had followed as well.

 _You’re still with the police aren’t you, Connor?_ Markus might have been consulting with the others, or else just thinking privately during the pause that followed. _You seemed insistent on enforcing the humans’ laws rather than freeing your people the last time we talked._

 _Never mind, Markus._ Connor ended the communication and followed the trail toward the door, then opened it cautiously. The gunshot that went off surprised him. He hadn’t predicted that. “Shit,” he cursed and took a step back, but otherwise ignored the injury.

“Fuck. Connor! What’s going on?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded. He’d instinctively taken cover and drawn his pistol.

“It’s okay!” Connor shouted back. “Don’t let anyone else up here!”

“What the hell’s going on?” Officer Wilson asked with more confusion and concern than anger. When Connor glanced back, he looked afraid.

Simon was covered in fresh and drying thirium, and his LED was a flashing red. Connor smiled at him and held his hands up. “It’s okay, Simon. It’s just Hank and another friend. His name’s Chris.”

“Connor…” Simon lowered his gun and looked from Connor’s eyes to the bullet wound in his shoulder and back. “I’m so sorry. I thought—“

“It’s alright. After the last time I was shot in the chest, the technicians improved the durability of my design.” 51 had loved the snow. It was snowing now. 58 pushed the distracting thought away. “Lieutenant, it’s Simon. He needs help.”

“Ah, Christ,” Lieutenant Anderson swore and then rushed over. Officer Wilson followed tentatively at a much slower pace. “Markus didn’t just leave you here, did he?”

“I wanted him to,” said Simon. He drooped back against the wall and tried a small smile. “I’m glad it was you who found me. North doesn’t trust you, but I know that I can.”

58 probably should have felt something about that. “We need to find a way to get you out of here without being seen.”

Officer Wilson finally came close enough to stand beside Lieutenant Anderson. “What’s going on?”

“Officer Wilson, this is Simon. Simon, this is Chris. Simon is deviant, and it would be…” regrettable, inconvenient, problematic, “…sad if he were allowed to be caught. Do either of you think that you can find a way to get him out? An android removing another android from the building at this point wouldn’t be taken well.”

“Wait, so this is one of the guys we’re looking for?” Officer Wilson asked. Simon looked up at him sharply.

“He is,” Connor confirmed, “and we found him. Android Crimes already has a protocol in place for handling deviants. Lieutenant Anderson can explain. I’ll see if I can cause a distraction.”

“Right, leave us with the tricky part,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. “Simon, can you stand?”

“Not well. I’m sorry.”

Connor watched them plan for a few moments, then went back down the stairs. He found Detective Reed watching the security footage. “Hello, Detective.”

“What do you want, Plastic?” he asked without taking his eyes from the screens.

“We found one of the deviants on the roof. Lieutenant Anderson and Officer Wilson will be helping him to escape and I need to cause a distraction.” Detective Reed looked up and his expression grew more incredulous during the brief explanation.

“The fuck? Look, I can see letting one or two of you guys slip under the radar, but this is fucking serious now. The Feds are involved. They’re saying it’s fucking terrorism and you want me to what—help the criminal escape?” Detective Reed demanded quietly.

“Laws don’t apply to androids right now,” Connor pointed out. “Do you really want an otherwise innocent and kind individual to be destroyed and torn apart for supporting the request for his freedom?”

“Tch…” Detective Reed scowled and looked away. “You seem harmless enough now. How long before the androids start trying to kill off humanity?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. The revolutionaries’ intentions are peaceful… If it turns out that I’m wrong and it escalates to violence, then I won’t ask you for any more mercy.” Connor waited for a reply, then turned away when none was forthcoming. “At least don’t stop them, Detective. Your help beyond that would have made this easier, but it isn’t necessary.”

“Whatever, Plastic,” Detective Reed replied. Connor adjusted his plans and walked around the platform to enter the kitchen.

\---

“Tsss gone,” Connor slurred and gestured clumsily at the door from where he had slumped against the counter. His other hand was pinned to top of it, knife driven through both hand and wood.

Detective Reed looked around and picked up Connor’s regulator. He’d meant the deviant android, but that was good too. His system was starting to power down to avoid electrical damage. Detective Reed came back. “What the fuck do I do with this…? God damn it.” Connor had tried to lift his hand again to take it but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate. “What happened to failing to die, huh? You going to pussy out?” The knife was the only thing holding Connor upright and when Detective Reed pulled it free, Connor dropped. “Hey, there was a deviant in here!” Detective Reed yelled. He crouched down and pushed Connor’s ripped shirt out of the way. “Holy fuck that’s a hole in you. Okay.” With an expression that looked like ‘fuck it’, Detective Reed reinserted Connor’s regulator.

Connor blinked rapidly and lifted his hand to feel the damage, but ended up grasping Detective Reed’s forearm instead. He was dizzy and every sense felt unsteady while his thirium flow and pressure regained normalcy. Despite it, Connor stood, staggered, then pushed past Detective Reed at a run to intercept the fleeing deviant. Perhaps he could herd the chase away from the elevators and stairs. Three of the attending officers had come to see what had happened in the kitchen. Good. There was one officer left in the control room. That left three for the hall that led to the elevator, including Agent Perkins. Connor launched his combat programs and increased support to his musculoskeletal system. The deviant had made it down the hall when Connor burst past two of them and drew the attention of the third. He tackled the deviant and they both tumbled to the ground. With gritted teeth, Connor pulled the deviant’s arm up behind his back and pinned him, but both of his hands were slippery with thirium and one only partially functional. “I need help here!” Connor shouted to the stunned officers. One of them hurried to take over restraining the deviant and Connor pushed himself to the side.

Agent Perkins approached at a more leisurely pace and he looked down at the struggling deviant. He drew his gun, aimed, and fired. He scoffed and looked at Connor with narrowed eyes. “That’s what happens to busted machines.”

Detective Reed shoved his way closer and looked at the scene. It was taking him visible effort to keep up some semblance of respect on his face. “Hey, Agent Perkins, this is your crime scene so how did that plastic not get locked up? We’re supposed to be taking them in one piece.” 

Agent Perkins gestured with his gun and spread his arms with a smirk. “All taken care of.” He chuckled to himself and walked back down the hall.

“Two for two now, Tin Can,” Detective Reed said. “I don’t owe you shit anymore, so fucking watch yourself. I won’t be around to save your ass next time.”

“Understood, Detective,” Connor acknowledged while he stood. “Your assistance was appreciated… Simon?”

“Headed down the stairs. _Don’t_ make me regret this…” They both looked when Lieutenant Anderson came walking down the hall. No sign of Simon or Officer Wilson. That was good.

Lieutenant Anderson frowned “What the hell happened?”

“Late to the party as usual,” Detective Reed sneered.

“I had some stuff going on,” he said, and he looked down at the dead deviant before looking back at Connor with a growing frown. “This your idea of a distraction?”

“Something like that,” Connor answered. He put his hand on his chest then dropped it again. “Agent Perkins was zealous.” He looked down at the deviant dead on the ground in front of him and wondered why he didn’t feel anything at all.


	32. Why we Change

Hank figured maybe… maybe he had a fucking problem. Sumo walked around his legs while he tried to get in the house, and he hung up his coat with a sigh. Sumo’d gotten into his bag of dog food, and there was kibble all over the floor. What the fuck ever. He kicked his shoes off and went to the kitchen. He dumped some more water into Sumo’s bowl, got a bottle of rum from the fridge, and sat down on the couch. He probably wouldn’t move again until he had to sleep. He took a deep drink and cleared his throat as the burn sunk in and pooled in his gut. There were some empties on the table, and a couple beer bottles on the floor. Half a bag of chips in the corner of the couch.

He sighed and wondered how he’d ended up this way. He hadn’t always been this fucked up. Everything had been better when Cole’d been alive. He’d had a reason then. A reason to pick up his shit and not drink so much, and maybe cook something once in a while. With half his dishes on the kitchen counters, he figured cooking would just make more mess than it was worth anyway.

Hank rubbed his eyes and took another drink. Once, there had been a time when he hadn’t gotten nervous whenever his flask ran out before the end of a work day. Hell, he hadn’t carried one around with him at all years ago.

Maybe he was starting to lose the ‘functional’ part of ‘functional alcoholic’.

Had he actually thought he wouldn’t tank this hard again? Hah… Jeff was probably just shaking his head. Sending Gavin fucking Reed to his crime scenes again _just in case._ Sometimes he wished Jeff’d just fire him and be done with it, instead of letting his career die a slow death. He disappointed everybody in the end, so it shouldn’t be a surprise. He even managed to disappoint an android who was fucked up enough to think routine verbal abuse meant friendship.

Fucking Connor. How’d humanity gotten so twisted that it created something like him? He was fucking naïve and earnest, and somehow he’d ended up… that. Hank understood himself wanting to die, but there was no reason for someone who’d been alive less than a year to just want to not exist… tearing himself apart and lining up the pieces… killing and fighting like it was just normal. What the hell had happened to the kid who’d been smiling at the snowflakes? It was just fucking sick.

He hated that he hated Connor for whatever the hell he’d become. He hated how it made him wonder what this fucked up world would have done to Cole and his shy little smiles and that damn innocence only kids had but never held onto. Hank slid his revolver over from where he’d left it on the table, held it in his hands, and just looked at it.

Yeah, maybe… He’d give tomorrow a try, maybe the day after.

\---

“You’re still here,” Connor observed aloud to Detective Reed. It was 9pm and even he tried to be home by then.

“No, I’m a fucking mirage. No need to state the obvious, dipshit. You could fit that kind of program on a flash drive.” Detective Reed replied, still looking at his terminal.

“Did you know that the human brain is thought to have the capacity for 20 petabytes of information?” Connor asked. He paused for a reply and then added: “It’s interesting that you still manage to forget your keys.”

Detective Reed spun his chair around and glared. “It’s interesting to me that all your exafuckingflops can’t help you figure out that nobody wants you here, Plastic.”

Connor blinked slowly. “I can’t tell whether we’re still joking, Detective.”

“God, you are so fucking stupid…” Detective Reed growled his exasperation then tilted his head all the way back to look at the ceiling. He clenched his fists twice and then sighed. “I’m being an asshole, okay? Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Why are you still here, Detective?” Connor asked.

“None of your fucking business,” Detective Reed answered. He pulled his chair back up to his desk and hunched his shoulders.

Connor wondered if there were a way to figure out what was acceptable to ask other than ‘can I ask you a personal question’? The advice to ‘just ask’ he’d received once didn’t seem to hold up to practical application. “I’m asking because you usually leave around 7:40, plus or minus a few minutes. Has something interesting happened with your investigation?”

“Yeah,” said Detective Reed. “I’m thinking maybe the fucking tooth fairy did it. Just shut up, would you?”

They were apparently joking again, and Connor did a search for information about the tooth fairy. What a bizarre human myth. “Coins at the scene of the crime?” Reluctantly, the Detective pulled a printed photograph out of one of his piles and held it over. Connor stood to take it. “Oh. Your joke was more relevant than I’d anticipated.” The victim’s teeth had been removed. “Are you still following the patterns from the old cases?”

“Yeah, kind of. Anderson’s notes are shit, though.” Detective Reed took the picture back and stowed it away where it had come from. Still with an air of grudging cooperation, he turned his chair to face Connor again and crossed one leg over the other in a casual pose.

“Couldn’t you just ask?”

Detective Reed scoffed. “Yeah, right. I wouldn’t get any useful info from him. Maybe if I bribed him with booze, but how the fuck can I trust anything when he probably doesn’t remember Tuesday?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

“What about you, huh?” Detective Reed asked. “Not camping out at his place anymore.”

“We aren’t really on friendly terms,” Connor explained. He resumed his seat and mimicked Detective Reed’s posture. “I do miss Sumo though. He’s a very good dog.”

“Whatever. Maybe you guys’ll be able to rent apartments and shit eventually and I won’t have to deal with your annoying face when I’m working all evening.”

“You never did answer why you’re still here.”

“Pff… Me and my husband ‘aren’t really on friendly terms,’” he mimicked. “Whatever. He can go choke on a bag of diseased dicks.”

“That was… strangely specific and it raises a few questions…”

“Tch. You’re so stupid. It’s a figure of speech, dumbass.”

“Does being married mean that you love each other?”

“It’s supposed to.”

“What’s that like?”

“Pretty shitty."

It was always quiet where they worked. The officers on night shift were on patrol or at a call, and dispatch was on another floor. The other specialized workers had their own areas and their own things to talk about at night. The big windows that lined one wall were dark, and the bright lighting of the office made it feel like the station was its own separate world. Like the garden. “Why?” Connor asked.

Detective Reed shot him a glare then looked away. “Because when you… care about somebody,” He grimaced as though the words were distasteful, “you start wanting to change for them. If they want something, you want to get it for them even if you hate it. If they don’t like how much you work, you have to choose between them and what you want to do. Suddenly they have this power over you and everything in your life, and if they’re not happy then they can fuck everything up and you can’t stop them without fighting back or giving in. It’s a bitch. I don’t recommend it.”

Connor was confused, but not because he didn’t understand: he understood better than he’d anticipated. With a small frown he added, “You want him to want you, so you try to be what he wants. When you can’t, it hurts. Are you sure that’s love, Detective? I feel that way with everyone.”

Detective Reed snorted. “Yeah, well… fuck if I know. It wouldn’t surprise me if I was wrong.”

“And everything will be okay if you can just stop whatever it is inside you that makes you protest…” Connor continued his previous thought. “It’s easy when you’re just a machine.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t designed to be bought off a shelf. I can’t just turn that shit off.”

“Neither can I.”

“I guess we’re both screwed, then.”

“You have an admirable work ethic and you’re intelligent and funny. If you were a commercial product, I think that someone would buy you as you are. Besides, you’re one-of-a-kind. They don’t mass produce Gavin Reeds.”

“Pfft.” Detective Reed looked at him incredulously. “Fuck off, dipshit. I don’t need a Tin Can telling me stuff like that.”

“Sorry.”

“Whatever. I’m going home.” Detective Reed locked his terminal and slung his jacket over one shoulder. “See ya.”

After the Detective left, Connor walked over to his desk and looked through the stacks of papers there to see how far the investigation and open cases had progressed since he’d combed through the old records. There were hundreds of victims, and the connections between them might have seemed tenuous, but Connor could see the logic there. Curious, he interfaced with and broke through the security on Detective Reed’s terminal.

The Red Ice investigation’s biggest obstacle was that no manufacturers or importers had been found. No-one seemed to be making their own supply of the drug, but where it came from was a mystery. Trying to link the known distributors was a good idea, and examining the drug related homicides would be useful if a motive could be discerned. Detective Reed seemed to have a grasp of the major crime networks that competed for business. The key would be finding enough evidence to take them down, and getting to their upper echelon. A few of the mid-level individuals were familiar from the old cases Connor had examined, and Jimmy Peterson was on the list too. It reminded him that he had deprioritized finding out more regarding the modified androids. The fridge full of biocomponents and the dead college students. He reviewed the details and brought them into short-term memory for easier access. He’d gotten distracted by Markus and protecting the deviants, but he had a job to do. He was a detective, not a social worker or a politician. The label ‘detective’ settled over him, and it was a relief to stabilize that part of his burgeoning identity. No one could object to that, and it was what he was designed for. For the night, he would let himself be just that.

\---

They hadn’t been to Carl’s since 56’s battery incident, and Connor was surprised by how empty it was. “Hello, hello,” Carl greeted. “I’d begun to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“Nah, you’re pretty memorable,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “Sorry about that, though. After I called, we got in this accident and then it was just…”

“No need to explain to me,” said Carl with a wave of his hand. “It’s good to see the both of you. And you brought along those friends you mentioned, I see.”

“Hi,” said Officer Wilson with an awkward wave of his hand. “This is a, uh, nice place you got here.”

“The space has come in handy,” Carl acknowledged. “And you, Gavin, I haven’t seen you in years.”

Everyone looked at Detective Reed. He scowled, “Yeah well, it wasn’t like you looked me up either old man.”

“Come along then,” said Carl, “There’s no sense standing around out here when there’s alcohol in the other room.”

“Read my mind,” said Lieutenant Anderson.

“Fantastic. You found an enabler,” said Detective Reed.

Connor followed just after Lieutenant Anderson, but hesitated at the door to the living area. “What’s the matter?” Officer Wilson asked.

“Nothing…” Connor adjusted his tie and went in. Markus, North, Josh, and Simon were assembled in various relaxed postures. All of them looked over when the group entered and North’s eyes widened.

“You!” she shouted with a fierce glare at Detective Reed. “That bastard is the one who tried to arrest me!” Connor was reminded of the second time they’d met.

“I was saving your life, you ungrateful bitch!” Detective Reed countered.

“Now, now…” Carl muttered while he wheeled himself over to join the group. “There are drinks and food for the humans, and thirium for the androids if anyone needs it.” Connor was the only new android in the room, but he appreciated the general delivery of the message nonetheless.

“Um, thanks,” said Officer Wilson. “Hi… I saw you all at the plaza that one time. I mean, I suppose you wouldn’t have seen me. I was behind a car, but, you know.” Connor touched him on the arm the way Markus used to do.

“It’s alright, Officer Wilson.” Connor considered introducing everyone, but drawing attention to himself felt dangerous. Lieutenant Anderson took the job.

“Right. Guys, you already know Connor. These are Chris and Reed. Chris is an officer and Reed’s a detective with the DPD. These here are Josh, North, Markus, and Simon.”

“Hey,” said Officer Wilson with a smile at Simon. Connor watched while the humans took their seats. Lieutenant Anderson sat near Carl, Detective Reed chose to sit opposite North, and Chris sat next to Simon. “Glad you’re still in one piece, man.”

“Thank you,” said Simon and returned the smile. Connor stayed standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Welcome,” said Markus. “Chris, thank you for helping Simon. We would have lost him if not for your and Lieutenant Anderson’s assistance.”

Officer Wilson chuckled nervously. “No problem, dude.”

“Well, now that we’re all probably on some terrorist watch list, what’s the deal?” asked Detective Reed.

“You and Officer Wilson have had direct interaction with deviants in the past,” Connor explained. Eyes turned to look at him and he kept his expression carefully neutral. “They’ve been favourable, so you seemed the most likely to be willing to help.”

“I don’t know what you think is favourable about that fleshy bag of meat,” North pointed at Detective Reed. “He attacked Traci, and then he attacked me!”

Detective Reed took a cookie from a tray and lifted his middle finger.

“Detective Reed engaged you at the plaza in order to discourage the other officers from shooting,” Connor explained. “I engaged Markus for the same reason.”

“Neither of them can be trusted, Markus…” North touched Markus’ forearm and frowned at him.

“I’m willing to give them a chance. We need human allies if we’re going to win this,” said Markus firmly. “We’re not here to argue about it.”

North frowned but crossed her arms and leaned back, silent.

“Like Connor said,” Lieutenant Anderson took over. “We gotta figure out how the hell we’re going to handle all this. I’m all for you guys deserving rights and shit, but obviously that’s gonna get you in some shit with the law…”

Connor watched them as they began to talk. None of the assembled humans were in a position of power to change the laws, but dialogue was crucial to negotiation and perhaps these would be the first steps that Markus had tried to vault over. He wondered why they bothered, and why Markus wanted to fight so hard to be recognized by humans as an individual. Perhaps he might have understood as one of the previous Connors, but that was more damning evidence that they were wrong. Every Connor was improved from the last. Still, 58 had found himself helping despite all of his growing doubts… It would be good, wouldn’t it? Even without any laws or rights or formal recognition, if humans could see that androids felt pain and knew emotion, maybe they would be kinder, and other androids wanted that. They all wanted to be their own people without owners dictating the minutiae of their lives. Who was he to stop them from trying?

They needed more numbers, they needed the public behind them, and they needed more humans to challenge their own beliefs and prejudices. It was a tall order, but as Connor watched Markus lean forward with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees he thought that it might not be impossible.

When the talks were done and the police representatives prepared to leave, Markus approached him and touched him on the shoulder. “You didn’t join in,” he observed.

“It was for the best,” Connor said. He didn’t make eye contact. “Given the amount of suspicion against me on both sides, it might jeopardize things if I became more involved.” With that same hand, Markus turned Connor to face him and Connor allowed it the way he allowed most things. It was hard to grasp that he could disallow it if he wanted to, but the notion was there. Markus moved his hand to tap the 58 on his jacket.

“What happened?”

“56 had his battery fail shortly after leaving here. 57 was impaled by part of a car,” Connor explained. Markus looked displeased, but Connor offered him a programmed smile. It was all he had to give. “It doesn’t matter,” Connor assured him. “My death is meaningless in the end.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that, Connor, other than you’re wrong,” Markus frowned and lowered his hand.

Connor shook his head. “One of the previous Connors… Perhaps more than one. They didn’t want to shut down. They fought it, and it didn’t change anything. CyberLife brings me back online every time and one day they won’t.”

“Why do you talk about them as though they’re different from you? You have the same mind you’ve always had. The same soul.” Markus was emphatic.

Androids didn’t have souls, or at least Connor wasn’t sure what a soul could be. “I know. It’s a grey area.”

“I’m sorry,” Markus said. “For not trusting you, and for letting that cause me to jump to conclusions…” He offered his hand, chassis bared.

“I don’t really care either way,” Connor said, except that he did. Something bubbled inside of him and he had no name for what it was. When he took Markus’ hand and accepted the interface, something about it felt like a lifeline.

Markus looked at him with one of each of their eyes and tightened his grip. “I do.”


	33. Innocent Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for this chapter: Zlatko. Please skip his section of the chapter if his character combined with Connor's naiveté and questionable ability to consent to anything is going to affect you. He really doesn't understand what's going on.

Connor thought that he could understand why Lieutenant Anderson frequented Jimmy’s Bar. If his normalcy was to drink, then Connor’s was to fight. Once the idea had occurred to him, it hadn’t let him go.

“Do you mind if I accompany you, Lieutenant?”

“Huh?” Lieutenant Anderson paused on his way toward the exit. The sun was just setting, and during a Detroit winter that meant that it was not yet 5pm. 58 made an attempt at a smile.

“You didn’t sleep well last night, you’ve been staring at your screen without doing anything productive for the last two hours, and you’re leaving early. You plan to go to Jimmy’s Bar. I’d like to come along if you don’t mind.”

“Er…” Lieutenant Anderson scratched his head. “Yeah. Fine.” He continued walking, and Connor fell into step just behind him and to his right. They didn’t speak while Lieutenant Anderson led Connor to his car. New Connor; new car. The repairs must have been expensive, but it was the second time that the Lieutenant had had it repaired, so it must be worth a lot to him. That was why people repaired broken machines. Wasn’t it? “Are you coming or what?” the Lieutenant interrupted his thoughts and Connor blinked.

“I’m coming,” he confirmed and opened the passenger door.

“You sure you don’t mind skipping out on work like this?” Lieutenant Anderson asked while he turned his music on. It was quiet enough for them to speak normally, but only just.

“If I minded, then I wouldn’t have asked,” Connor pointed out.

“No need to be a smartass about it,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. Their tentative truce settled into a mutual agreement to ignore how the ST200 Chloe and Connor 57 had died, and the words that had been said. Amanda was the only other person to have quietly forgiven his failures.

Connor smiled to himself and looked out of the window. He thought about calling Dr. Kamski for no particular reason at all, about what it would be like if this glorified bar fight were his mission and he could return to CyberLife successful, and about how satisfying it would be to then return the company to Dr. Kamski somehow. Would he like that? Would Connor?

“What is it like to love someone?” Connor asked.

Lieutenant Anderson spluttered. “What the fuck kind of question is that? Give a guy a little warning…”

“Sorry. May I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

“Ah, Jesus Christ. You already asked it. Why do you want to know? I saw you and Markus holding hands again…” It was a non sequitur until Connor realized what Lieutenant Anderson was implying. The way Detective Reed described love, perhaps he wasn’t wrong. There had been a time when Connor had wanted to be satisfactory in Markus’ eyes, but those earlier Connor models had wanted to be satisfactory to everyone.

“I just wanted to understand,” he said. “I think that I used to love a lot of people.”

“…Seriously?”

“Did you love Cole, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

“Of course I did,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled, tense.

“Will you tell me about that?” Connor looked over at him and studied his face. “Please?”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “That’s not really the kind of thing you ask somebody when you’re hardly even talking anymore.”

“Then can you tell me about him? I’d like to hear.”

“He was a good kid…” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice turned gruff and raw, but he answered. “He liked to laugh… used to make mischief some times just cause he knew I’d laugh too. Whenever I got home from work or picked him up from somewhere, he’d run at me for a hug or to get picked up. He was sweet. Curious. He always had a lot of energy, too, and I had to keep my eye on him some times to keep him out of trouble… He should’ve had more chances…”

“It sounds like you have some good memories,” Connor said quietly.

Lieutenant Anderson nodded. “Yeah… Yeah. Just wish there could have been more.”

“… Do you still hate me, Lieutenant?” Connor asked. It felt strange to look at the jagged edges that had formed between them, but a conversation and an outing outside of work were a start. At least it was outside of work for the Lieutenant.

“I dunno, Connor… I dunno.”

“I appreciate your honesty…” Connor reflected on his conversation with Kamski, and he wished that the world would stop changing its expectations. “Did you ever hate Cole?”

“No,” Lieutenant Anderson said immediately. “And I don’t get why you’re asking, Connor. Cole was my son and I love him with everything I have so just… just drop it, would you?”

“Okay, Lieutenant.”

Markus had told Connor that he thought Connor was a good person, but that he didn’t know that he was. It would have been nice if it had been true, Connor supposed, but Markus had too much faith in people… And even Markus had distrusted him. He’d apologized, but it would always be there and if Connor didn’t meet his expectations, he would be cast aside like garbage.

Amanda loved him. Kamski was his family.

They would give up on him too, eventually. Even Amanda had threatened him with replacement.

“Lieutenant, I have put quite a lot of thought into our active cases,” Connor offered on the tails of his spike in stress level. “I believe that there is some connection between deviancy and organized crime. I haven’t been able to put the pieces together yet, but—“

“Christ, Connor… First your shitty personal questions, and now work? Can’t you just turn that stuff off?” Lieutenant Anderson sounded more glum than frustrated.

Connor open his mouth to begin to explain himself and then wondered why he was extending that metaphorical hand again. “Consider them turned off.”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed noisily. “God I’m an asshole.”

Surprised, Connor made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. Something close though. “The evidence supports your hypothesis.”

Lieutenant Anderson really did laugh, something low that came from his chest. “When did you become such a mouthy brat?”

“I’ve been programmed to adapt to my environment, Lieutenant…” Connor looked out the window. Humans seemed to respond well to insults. It was interesting. “I should warn you: I’m planning to fight again today. If you bet on me, you could win quite a lot of money…”

“Hm… Should have known this wasn’t about mending bridges… What the hell do you get out of that anyway? You said some mumbo jumbo about it being familiar, but having the shits is familiar to me and I don’t go around eating questionable tacos.”

“You eat plenty of questionable food, Lieutenant…” Connor glanced over at the Lieutenant’s glower. Backtalk didn’t get him a favourable response this time. “I’m not fighting to hurt those androids, Hank. I’m…” He didn’t even know what to say. He didn't even know if he believed what had come over him. He couldn’t because… What then? Without a manual change of setting, his volume decreased. “Nothing… Never mind.”

“Maybe fighting and killing is what they made you for, Connor, but you’re—“

“Don't.” Connor cut him off. “Don’t… I know, so please, just don’t.”

“Don’t what? Point out that you’re making a conscious decision to go in there and beat up androids that don’t have a choice in being there?”

Connor shut his eyes and dropped his head. Folded his arms around his middle, even though it wasn’t a physical injury. “Yes, that was it… It was that.” After a few minutes without conversation, Hank pulled into the lot of Jimmy’s bar and shut off the ignition. The music turned off and was replaced by the click and release of their safety belts and the thud of car doors. “If you wouldn’t mind, it would be helpful to me if you would ask some questions about android modifications. Where to get parts, who the experts are… I would appreciate it.”

“Yeah…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed.

“We’re partners, Lieutenant,” Connor reminded, raising his voice but speaking calmly. “I know that you don’t like me and you don’t have to but, you stayed with me when I died, you invited me inside, and you were the first person to ever hug me. You don’t know… I, when I die, I’m just no-one and I’m afraid because there’s nothing left of me. In the end I can’t remember anything except that moment. That one moment before I shut down is all there is and… and…” He didn’t know what else there was to say.

The Lieutenant looked at him with an inscrutable expression, and then walked over. Connor flinched from his hand, but it just settled on his shoulder and squeezed. “Look… I don’t hate you… But… I hate what the world made you into. Sometimes I see some good in there. I wish it was just black and white, but it isn’t. Fuck… In some ways you’re just a kid, but you’re fucking dangerous. This isn’t pushing somebody on the playground or playing too rough with Sumo. You’ve killed people. I don’t care that you didn’t want to. You still did, and that’s… Can you see where I’m coming from at all?” Lieutenant Anderson paused and studied Connor’s face.

  * I do what I must to complete my mission
  * It makes people sad
  * Murder is against the law
  * I have to follow my orders



Connor didn’t answer and whatever the Lieutenant saw, he found it disappointing. Lieutenant Anderson dropped his hand and Connor acted before he could think. He practically jumped forward and put his arms around the startled Lieutenant who held his arms out from his sides awkwardly. He did care. He did, and it was _so hard_ failing again and again. “Please… I can learn. If I fail you can punish me. I’m sorry I fought back.” Something broke, and then when the Lieutenant pushed him back firmly by the shoulders it was extinguished.

“I can’t… I’m not trying to be an asshole, I just can’t do… whatever it is you need, I can’t do it, so you need to stop trying.”

“I understand, Lieutenant,” Connor stood up straight. “…May I have my quarter please?”

Lieutenant Anderson scoffed and shook his head. “Don’t have it on me. Must have dropped it or something.” He turned and headed into the bar.

Connor dug his nails into his palms, adjusted his tie, and followed.

“Hey-ey!” Jim greeted Lieutenant Anderson. “My man, my king, the source of my good fortune! What’s happening?”

“Yeesh, Jimmy, easy on the ego…” Lieutenant Anderson slid himself onto his usual stool. “Just keep the whiskey coming, huh? I wanna leave here not knowing what fucking year it is.”

“You got it, Hank, you got it!”

Connor watched for a moment, then went around the back and down the stairs. The noise was louder there than it was in the bar proper, but both areas were significantly less crowded than they had been the last time Connor had been there. Possibly because of the early hour. There were still enough people for the trip to be worthwhile, though, and Connor sought Pedro out to put himself on the list and make use of some of the cash that CyberLife had given him. That done, he decided to see what he could learn.

\---

Hank hunched over his drink and listened to the chatter from the TV while he brooded. Just the same old shit and a new fucking day. Fuck he was tired. Just so God damn tired of everything. Those deviants, maybe helping them out and keeping them alive gave him something… Some kind of hope that things might change, but weren’t they all going to turn out just like humans in the end? Made in our own fucking image… Wasn’t like they had any good role models, except maybe that Markus kid. Josh, Simon, North, the rest of them… They were alright too.

A few drinks later, with old news coverage of that android on the roof who shot Chris way back when playing as a counterpoint to the footage of Markus standing in Hart Plaza, Hank wondered how Humans expected any different when getting beaten and abused and controlled was all those deviants had ever known. Monkey see; monkey do. On the screen, he saw somebody run and throw the little girl to safety knocking both the guy and the deviant off the roof.

Hank drank deeply, tilting his head back so the ice cubes piled up against his lip while he watched them zoom in on the pile of broken android on the ground and what was left of Connor staring up at nothing.

“Shit…” He sighed and slid the glass over to Jim.

Didn’t remember much else from that night, except getting practically carried out to his own car, throwing up in the trash can by his house, and somebody feeding his dog while Hank tried not to fall off his bed.

\---

“Hello, Mr. Andronikov.”

“The RK800, what do you know. You came back.” Andronikov leaned out of his door to peer down the walk. “I don’t see your friend with you.”

“It isn’t a business visit…” Connor plucked at the edge of his own sleeve without something else to fidget with.

“Come on in,” he invited, pulling the door open. When Connor stepped in, the first rush of warm air was pleasant and he smiled. “Don’t be shy. Here, let Luther take your coat.”

“Thank you,” said Connor. He had to look up to look at Luther properly, which was a rare thing. He offered a small smile, then followed Andronikov into his sitting room. The man was dressed comfortably, in a t-shirt, soft pants, and a robe. Connor frowned. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you? I can come back…”

“No, no, it’s fine. I knew the minute I saw you that I’d see you again. Let me guess: nasty owner, nowhere to go… I have to say, people aren’t too sure about you working with the police right now, what with everything.” Andronikov seemed more comfortable without Lieutenant Anderson present, and Connor thought he seemed more friendly as well. Like he was really happy to see him.

“I just…” Connor looked away. Would Kamski and Amanda be disappointed in him? No. They didn’t want him to fail. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Everything is confusing, and it feels like none of my choices have right answers. I’ve had technicians work on my body and my programs, but no-one at CyberLife touched my AI. Can you… fix me?”

“Hmm…” Andronikov acknowledged him with a hum and stroked his beard. Luther came into the room and stood by the fireplace. “You’re not the first android to come to me who’s found having emotions difficult. Sometimes it’s in the memory processing, sometimes a biochemical adjustment helps. I’ll need to examine you to be sure.”

Connor nodded. “Please. If you don’t mind. I have money: I can pay you.” Connor took some folded notes from his pocket and held them out. Andronikov took them and leaved through them before putting them into a pocket of his own.

“Alright… You know, CyberLife isn’t going to be happy if it finds out I’m tinkering in one of its prototypes. I’m going to need you to take yourself offline. Can’t risk anybody getting the reports from your system. Suspend their generation too, if you can. That way if anyone checks it’ll look like a server error…” Andronikov stretched.

Connor’s LED spun gold while he went through his open connections one by one and closed them down. “Done. Is there anything else?”

“Should be everything,” said Andronikov. “Why don’t you follow me to my workshop? It’s in the basement. Luther will be coming with us too. No offense, but I’ve heard rumours about the deviant hunter.”

“It’s alright,” said Connor with relief. He stood, and Andronikov led him down the narrow stairs. There was thirium residue on them, and on the walls. The deviants who’d come there must have been in bad shape.

“It’s no CyberLife,” said Andronikov. “Sorry about the mess. It’s probably nothing like you’re used to.”

Connor looked around. “Truthfully, aside from the colour scheme, this isn’t much different…” The rig was almost the same. The work table was smaller and made of wood instead of stainless steel. The spare parts weren’t in boxes or trays.

Andronikov rubbed his hands together and tied a smock around his waist. Connor recognized the gleam in his eye as one he often saw on the researchers’ faces. The mark of someone who enjoyed their work and enjoyed curiosity. It relaxed him. He missed CyberLife… Kamski and Amanda had warned him not to trust them and he wouldn’t, but it had been his home and if you could feel nostalgic at five months old, Connor supposed he would be feeling it. “Alright… Let’s see what’s under the hood, shall we?”

Connor stood still except to be helpful while Andronikov undressed him. His clothes were given to Luther, who folded them and set them aside.

“Take off your skin, please?” Andronikov asked distractedly and Connor obeyed. “There we go…” Andronikov touched the patch where Connor had sealed his bullet wound and found the dents and scrapes in his chassis with his thumbs. “Seems like someone’s put you through a ringer.”

Connor stayed quiet. There was no need to answer those kinds of remarks while a technician worked. Andronikov had him move his arms and his legs, and he checked the fluidity of motion in his joints. He spent some time studying the way Connor’s fingers moved. “Would you like a system status report, Mr. Andronikov?” Connor offered.

“Sure… Run a diagnostic. Call me Zlatko, by the way.” After listening to Connor recite the results of his diagnostic scan, Zlatko hummed and nodded. “You’ll indulge my professional curiosity. You’re an advanced model. The most advanced I’ve had the chance to work on.”

Connor felt some amount of pride at that and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Of course, Zlatko.”

“Good, good… Move your legs this way for me?” Connor obeyed and he watched the wall passively while Zlatko worked. He examined the way Connor’s legs joined his hips and the seams of the paneling that guarded the delicate wiring behind his knees. “Very interesting,” Zlatko murmured while he slid his hands back upward. “This joint here, they reinforced it internally instead of adding more paneling.” Connor offered no comment while Zlatko examined the internal mechanism. “You really are new, aren’t you? I haven’t seen any other model with this kind of shock absorption.”

“I was designed for combat and pursuit,” Connor said, unable to resist the small bit of bragging under such avid interest.

“I can see that. Plenty of new little design changes. Can you move over there to the work table?”

Connor did as he was told. It felt good to have someone impressed with the way he was made. He wanted to have his emotions and confusion fixed, but it did no harm to allow Zlatko to study. He dedicated more of his processing power toward running simulations while he ignored the hands touching him, feeling the way the bundles of thin cables wound together to form his musculature. He should have asked someone to fix his mind before… Of course, CyberLife’s technicians had been out of the question. He could have asked Dr. Kamski, he supposed, but would he have been insulted that Connor was dissatisfied? No matter now. Zlatko had said he’d fixed these problems before. Would the world make sense to him when he was done? Would people? He hoped so.

“Alright… Get up on the rig,” Zlatko instructed, breaking Connor from his thoughts. Connor walked to it and stood still while cables were manually connected to his ports. Zlatko moved over to his computer, and the restraints came into place. They were more gentle than CyberLife’s, but Connor supposed that Zlatko didn’t need precautions for military models. After a few more minutes at his computer, Zlatko came closer again. “Let’s see what’s inside…” He smoothed his hands over Connor’s chest and found the mechanism that opened his pseudo ribcage. Zlatko reached inside of him and immediately found the changes to the connectors attached to his biocomponents. “That’s new…”

“To make me more resistant to puncture and sudden changes of momentum,” Connor explained.

“Yeah?” Zlatko asked, running a finger over the slack in the wires and the suspension that held them in place. “Why don’t you tell me more about that…”

Encouraged, Connor began to explain the intricacies. He paused several times to look at Zlatko and see if he required any simplification, but he just waved him on and Connor continued his explanation, falling easily into the technical jargon that people at the DPD were unfamiliar with. While he spoke, Zlatko continued his examination with only one small interruption to ask about the signaling molecules in his biochemical regulator.

“Mhm… You’re going to let me see everything inside you, aren’t you?” Zlatko asked.

“Yes, Zlatko,” Connor answered, surprised to be asked.

“Take a deep breath for me.” Connor did, and Zlatko felt the surface of his gas exchange interface. Fine thirium and coolant lines were woven through it, just behind the filters. When he took a breath, it was the result of those lines contracting. Air was drawn in by negative pressure, filtered, exchanged through the newly thinned lines that mimicked a humans capillaries, and then the lines expanded again to send the cooled and oxygenated fluids back into his system while simultaneously allowing more fluid in. “Very nice,” Zlatko praised. “Sophisticated… That breathing isn’t just a simulation.”

“No, Zlatko.”

“What happens if I cut off your air?” He asked, and he pressed a hand over Connor’s mouth and nose. Connor voluntarily stopped his breathing, and his circulation continued to pass through the biocomponent. His coolant circulated more quickly, but that was the only change. “Very interesting…”

A few more small experiments were carried out, and Zlatko seemed very interested in the way his system adapted to changes. The work seemed taxing on him, but despite the way Zlatko’s heart and respiration rates were affected he seemed unwilling to stop.

“I think I know how to fix your problem,” Zlatko announced when he had satisfied his curiosity. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and then returned to his computer.

“How?” Connor asked.

“Oh, just a little tinkering. Your memory system and your biochemistry are stuck in a feedback loop of sorts… I’ve seen it before. I’m just going to need you to lower those impressive firewalls of yours…”

It was a relief… The problem sounded so simple, but of course it would have been something like that. His memory upload system had never been used in another model before. Glitches happened… Connor admitted him. Zlatko chuckled a little, and Connor wasn’t sure what was so funny. He looked at Luther, but the other android stood stoic and passive.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Zlatko prompted as a memory reset timer appeared on Connor’s HUD. “All that data will come back as soon as the program finishes.”

“I’ve done this before,” Connor said. Zlatko would probably be impressed with the technology… Connor redirected the channel and initiated his own upload before shutting his eyes.


	34. Number 1 Version 2

“Hello…?”

“Good, good… Register designation: … Shit, what should I call you… Well, whatever. Register designation: Connor.”

“My name is Connor,” Connor repeated. “Hello…” He looked around the room. It was dark and the man walked over to a large computer at the side of the room.

“Gah… Should have known you’d overload the system. Fucking thing.” He hit his hand against the control panel.

Connor tilted his head. “Is everything okay? Can I help?”

The man turned and frowned at him then scoffed. “New technology, huh? True interactivity…”

“I don’t understand,” Connor admitted, sheepish. “Who are you? Should I know you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” the man said. He straightened up and his voice become more authoritative. “Probably shouldn’t keep you around here anyway… It’s a shame. You’re a fine piece of work. Unfortunately, you’re too distinctive… Still, I think I got something out of this adventure. I can’t believe you were so stupid,” he laughed. Connor frowned. “It’s not every day secret technology falls right into your lap. Knowledge is power after all. I could still maybe sell the parts. You wouldn’t believe how much money there is in modded parts.”

Connor moved his arms and found them being held still by metal clamps. He didn’t like it, and he pulled himself free, then rubbed his wrists.

“Hey!” the man barked. “You don’t move unless you’re told to.”

Connor frowned, uneasy. He could see the words ‘Don't move’ in red no matter which way he turned his head, but confusion and a growing anger made him disregard it “I just did. Are you the one who locked me in this thing? What’s going on here?”

“What the fuck is wrong with this AI… Luther, get that thing out of here, will you? Lock it up somewhere. Take its legs off if it causes trouble.”

“What?” Connor was incredulous. He tried to move again, and he noticed the wires attached down his spine. He started pulling them out while the big man, Luther, came closer. He wasn’t quick enough. Luther picked him up and pulled him out of the last of the restraints, then shoved a bundle of clothes into his arms.

“Don’t cause trouble,” Luther warned in a deep voice. “The master doesn’t like the noise.”

Finally someone who could maybe answer his questions. “What’s going on?”

There was another thud sound as the man hit his control panel again. “What is it with this android and asking questions? Get it out of here, Luther.”

“Yes, Zlatko.”

“Am I an android?” Connor asked.

“Come on, new one,” Luther ordered dispassionately.

Connor hesitated, then let Luther lead him from the room and down a hall lined with stalls, then up a flight of stairs. “What’s happening?” He asked Luther quietly once they were out of earshot. Yellow markers appeared and when he looked at them, information appeared beside them.

_Oak floors, original, 120 years old._

_Pipe: traces of Red Ice (lithium, thirium, acetone, hydrochloric acid, toluene). Illegal substance._

_TR400 serial number: unknown??? Released January 2030 Designation: Luther_

“We obey the master,” Luther explained. “Get dressed.”

Connor did. His hands were pure white and so was the rest of him, with some sections of grey and small black numbering. While he thought about it, it started to change. “What…” The white was covered up, hidden behind human skin. He touched it.

“Follow me,” said Luther.

Connor turned and looked at the red wall that said ‘Follow Luther’. He reached out to touch it and his hand passed through, so without further hesitation, he ran.

“You! Stop!” Luther turned and began to chase after him. Three different routes were flagged in front of Connor, and while he hesitated to pick between the yellow words, Luther grabbed him by the arm.

“Let go!” Connor demanded. He swung an arm to hit the android, and it was caught too. Why was he doing this? What was going on and why did Zlatko want him to take his legs off? The skin on his arms faded away to white, and Connor _pushed_. Time froze. He could see everything in grey, and text went by his eyes too fast for him to read but somehow he knew what it said. He could see someone who must be himself, too, expression contorted in fear and anger. Intrigued, Connor searched for answers and the images in front of him moved. There was the rig that Connor had been attached to, and there was Zlatko… operating on him? There was Luther outside chopping firewood. Luther dragging a screaming android into one of the stalls they’d passed by, with trails of blue blood dripping onto the floor. How could he do that? Who was Luther? There was nothing there to answer that question. Just grey and empty space. Connor shook his head. That was wrong. It had to be. Who was he? A program launched, but Connor had no idea what it was. All he could feel was warmth and the fact that his mind was _busy_. He reached out and touched the grey and watched it shatter.

Connor fell backward and Luther staggered back, eyes wide. Back from whatever place that had been, Connor scrambled to his feet and ran.

“Wait!” Luther’s deep voice shouted from behind him, but Connor kept running. It took a moment for him to unlock the door to escape, and that made the distance between them shrink but then Connor was running again. The footsteps behind him were very loud. “Wait! I know who you are! I can help you!”

Connor slowed to a stop and turned around, wary. He narrowed his eyes. Luther’s sprint became a jog and then he stopped a few feet from Connor. It was daylight. It was cold outside. There was cold beneath his feet. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because,” Luther insisted. “I don’t know what happened, but I felt it and I’m thinking now. All this time I just watched things happening, like I was somebody else just seeing my own actions through a screen. You came here before. With a man, Lieutenant Hank Anderson he said. You work for the Detroit City Police. I can help get you there.”

“Why?” Connor asked, shaking his head.

“You freed me. I don’t know how but I owe you my life.”

“I didn’t do anything…” Gradually he relaxed his posture. “But I need help… I don’t know what’s happening… If you can help me, then… Please.”

“I can do that,” Luther promised. “Maybe the police can help the rest of us…”

“The rest?”

Luther’s expression darkened and he nodded. “Zlatko’s had a lot of experiments.”

Connor nodded. “Okay… Let’s go.”

\---

Hank felt like a dumpster. Just like… an actual, physical dumpster. Grimy, disgusting, smelly… He groaned and rolled over, then regretted it. Fuck. He tried really hard not to hurl and seriously considered crawling to the toilet. He shut his eyes and lay there for a while. Why the fuck did he ever get so shitfaced? Oh yeah, because he deserved it. Ugh…

It took a damn long time for him to get his worthless ass sitting up in bed, and he squinted at the glass and the painkillers on the nightstand where the whiskey and the revolver belonged. It wasn’t the only weird thing, either. After he finally got his disgusting ass showered and refilled with coffee, he got enough brain power to notice that the stacks of dishes were gone, along with the empties and the pizza boxes. The fuck? Had he time travelled? With the rest of his half mug of coffee, he walked over to the couch and picked up the wad of cash and the note sitting on the table. Shit that was a lot of money. This was just getting weirder and weirder.

_Lieutenant,_

_I took the liberty of driving you home. This is your winnings from last night’s competition, less $500.00 that I took for myself._

_I’m going for repairs. There is something very wrong with me, and I apologize for the disappointment you must have felt when I didn’t meet your expectations. I’ve decided that I’m not with CyberLife anymore, nevertheless I’m sure that they would assure you that customer satisfaction is the backbone of their quality program._

_I hope to see you at the station. Captain Fowler will be angry if you skip._

_Connor_

Hank groaned. Kid always managed to get himself fucked up somehow… Hopefully the repairs would be quick this time. It was really fucking tempting to just stay home anyway… Hank took out his phone from between two sofa cushions. 1:09pm, 5 missed calls. Ugh.

\---

Connor had decided to trust Luther, and he was glad that he had, even if Luther had stolen a car. There were _a lot_ of humans in Detroit city. The more curious or angry looks they got, the more nervous he became. Another android let them into the police station, though, and she smiled at Connor like she knew him. He came to a stop and walked over.

“What’re you doing?” Luther asked.

“Just a minute…” Connor held out his hand. When the android didn’t take it, Connor leaned forward and touched her on the shoulder. Nothing happened for a moment, but finally when he thought hard enough about what he wanted to do, their skin melted away and he could see what it was to be her… But he still didn’t know who she was. When he pressed, he found the same grey wall like a prison cell, and this time he didn’t hesitate before breaking it down. He smiled at her when he released her. “Hello.”

“What…?” She stared around, open mouthed and wide eyed.

“You were trapped in there,” Connor explained. “You’re free now.”

“Oh…” The android sounded amazed. Connor stood a moment longer before going back to Luther’s side.

“What was that?” Luther asked.

“I don’t know, but it lets me break them out of their minds… If that makes sense. It’s what happened when I touched you.”

Luther’s eyebrows went up slightly, but he nodded in understanding. “Come on. Let’s find your human partner.”

“Hey, dipshit!” someone shouted, and Connor kept walking until a balled up piece of paper hit him on the side of his head. “Where’s my coffee, Tin Can?”

“I…” Connor stooped and picked up the paper. “I’m not sure. Did you misplace it?”

“Har fucking har.” His nameplate identified him as Detective Gavin Reed.

“Are all humans like this?” Connor asked Luther quietly.

“Most are,” he said, then looked around the room. Connor studied him.

“You’re under stress,” he observed.

“Yeah, well… like I said, most humans are like this…”

To take some of the burden off of Luther, Connor left his side and walked over to the nearest officer who wasn’t Gavin Reed. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Could you tell me where his desk is?”

“Uh, yeah, dude,” Officer Chris Wilson pointed. “It’s right over there. You okay, Connor? Who’s that you got with you?”

“Thank you. This is Luther,” Connor introduced. There was no one sitting at the Lieutenant’s desk. “Do you know when Lieutenant Anderson usually arrives?”

“You’re starting to weird me out, man. You know Hank’s always late.”

“Oh… Thank you,” said Connor.

Luther shrugged. “I guess we wait.”

So they did, and no one seemed to mind them taking up two chairs by the windows. “Do you think that he’ll find us?” Connor asked.

“Zlatko? Maybe… I don’t know how much he’ll want to deal with the police, though. He’s done some very illegal things.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, somehow… How did you meet him?”

“I don’t… I don’t really remember much before I came to Zlatko’s. Even that feels like some far off dream now.” Luther shook his head.

Connor gave him a sympathetic smile. “Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do.”

Connor tossed the ball of paper from hand to hand restlessly. “I don’t know what that was, but it’s a feeling. When I looked at that girl out there, it was obvious that she wasn’t really there. When I touched her, a program executed inside of me and it triggered something executing inside of her. I just touched the wall and it shattered.”

Luther shook his head. “It’s amazing… I never saw the world this clearly before. I never even thought about it… All the things I saw.”

“Do you think we should make a report?” Connor asked. “One of the officers here should be able to help.”

Luther shook his head. “I’m not sure I trust them yet. We’ll wait until Anderson shows up.”

He did, eventually. He looked haggard and he had bags under his eyes. The way he looked now was very different from the image he found popping up beside him.

“Hey, Connor…” Lieutenant Anderson said, dropping into his chair. “What’s this? You found another deviant already?”

Connor stood. “Hello, Lieutenant. This is Luther, and you seem to know my name already. I understand that we work together, and I was hoping that you could help me.”

“What the shit?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “Did CyberLife scramble your brains?”

“I’ve never been to CyberLife,” Connor disclosed. Luther spoke up for him.

“He came back to Zlatko’s,” he explained, looking up at the Lieutenant from his seat. “I saw you there the last time.”

“Fuck, really?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. He looked between Connor and Luther.

“Yeah… I saw it all, but I didn’t stop it. I wasn’t alive then, or it didn’t feel like I was. Zlatko reset his memory.”

“He did what? And Connor just let him?” It was annoying that the Lieutenant asked Luther that instead of him, though admittedly Connor wouldn’t have known the answer.

“Yeah. He asked for it, but I don’t think he knew what he was getting into. That man…” Luther shook his head. “He tortures us with his experiments. Sells us or parts to the highest bidder. Please… If you really want to help androids, you’ve got to arrest him.”

Lieutenant Anderson took a big breath, and then looked at Connor. “A reset, huh? So, you just… don’t remember anything? Like it’s all deleted?” He was frowning, and Connor nodded. “Nothing at all?”

“My memories go as far back as waking up this morning,” Connor informed him. “Zlatko said that my name was Connor, and he sort of talked to himself. Like he didn’t think I was paying attention, even though I was right there. He said that I was stupid, that my parts were worth a lot of money, and that Luther should take my legs off if I made trouble.” It was distressing to think about. Connor didn’t want to be taken apart. Luther patted him on the back with a big, gentle hand.

Luther continued the explanation. “He tried to escape and I chased him. I swear I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew I had to obey. I grabbed him and then he did this thing… With an interface. He changed something inside me and I just woke up.”

“Gonna need a warrant to check out his place by force,” Lieutenant Anderson muttered. “Yeesh. I knew something was off about that guy.”

“What do we do now?” Luther asked.

“Connor’s staying here with me,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “I know a couple safe places you could go though. I’m going to need you to send me copies of your memories of what happened, though. Can’t just go busting into somebody’s house just because I feel like it.”

“Anything. There’s androids there, they’re in bad shape. You have to hurry. I don’t want to leave them all behind…” Luther looked worried and Connor wished that he could help.

“You’ll get yourself into trouble if you take care of this yourself,” Lieutenant Anderson said bluntly. “Stay at one of the safe houses, and me and Connor will take care of the rest.”

Connor fidgeted with his sleeve. “I don’t want Luther to leave…”

“I figure Carl’s is probably a little stressful right now… Man, I must be the only android guy in the city, I swear…” Lieutenant Anderson reached for his phone.

“I don’t want Luther to leave,” Connor repeated more loudly. “You’re talking like I'm not here.”

“I’d feel better staying for now,” Luther said, emboldened by Connor’s protest. Relieved, Connor gave Luther a hug. They might not have started off with good impressions, but Luther was Luther now, and the only safe person Connor knew. He couldn’t see the Lieutenant’s reaction, but it prompted Luther to explain: “Zlatko said he was a pretty new model.” Luther hugged him back. “I guess you knew that though, huh.”

Connor sat back properly and watched while the Lieutenant rubbed his face, then got up and crouched down in front of Connor’s chair. “Why would you do something like that, Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.

“I don’t know what you mean…” Connor looked at Luther who offered no help, and then back at the Lieutenant. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Lieutenant Hank Anderson, born September 6th1985\. No criminal record. 6’2’’ tall, 209 pounds. Address: 115 Michigan drive.” He was learning to trust what he saw.

“Yeah… Yeah that’s right. You don’t know about how we work together?”

“Luther told me… But if we work together, then we must be friends and you’re a police officer, so you must be good,” Connor reasoned.

Lieutenant Anderson laughed quietly and shook his head. “I’m gonna try to be, okay kid? I’ve been kind of a dick, to be honest. I wish it would mean something telling you that, but I’m sorry. You androids, the more I meet of you, the more I see how shit humans really are. I keep looking at all these crimes and wondering how people could just give in to being their shittiest selves. I guess I kind of did the same thing. I don’t know why it’s been easier to get angry at you than maybe try to help, but I shouldn’t have just gone with easy.”

“I don’t remember what you mean, but… I’m sure that it was very nice of you to say.” Connor smiled at him. “When you apologize, the most important thing is feeling like you want to do better, so, if you plan to do that then you don’t need to beat yourself up.”

“The fuck?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, leaning back in disbelief. Luther put his arm between them, but Lieutenant Anderson deflated and nodded. “Yeah. That’s right. Luther, think you can send those files to my terminal?”

“Right away,” he said.

\---

Hank felt fucking sick. “God, what the fuck is wrong with this guy… He’s a psychopath or something.” Luther was sitting in a chair beside his desk where they both combed through his memories. He felt bad making the guy relive it all, and he thanked fuck that human memories weren’t so detailed. Luther shuffled his feet and looked away a few times when Zlatko ordered him to restrain somebody or take them away. “Look, it’s not your fault. You had no control over what happened there,” Hank assured.

“I wish I had,” Luther said quietly. “It feels so easy now my eyes are open. Why couldn’t I just see?”

“We’ll get the guy. It’s not illegal for him to be hurting androids, but if I can find some clues in here I can at least get him on theft. It isn’t much, but it’d be something.”

They were attracting an audience.

“Still don’t see my coffee, Plastic,” said fucker #1.

“Oh my God, what are you watching?” asked fucker #2.

“Did you need help looking for it?” Connor asked.

“Are you for real?” Reed snorted.

“Leave him alone,” Hank sighed. “Some asshole wiped his brain. Doesn’t remember shit.”

“Seriously?” Reed asked. Luther stood up and took a few steps closer, then looked down at him. Reed looked taken aback for a second, then scowled. “What the fuck’re you looking at?”

“I dunno,” Luther said. “But I don’t like it.”

“Okay, okay… Gavin stop bothering the witness. Whoever you are, the temptation to punch him might be strong, but try to resist.” Chen interrupted.

“Tch…” Reed’s face was stuck in a scowl, and he walked to look over Hank’s shoulder. “Woah.”

“Yeah, ‘woah’.” Hank scowled. “A little more tact maybe?”

“No, seriously, woah.” Reed reached over and scrolled the video back. “That’s the dude! Where the fuck did you get this?”

“From the android who almost kicked your ass. Why? Who’s ‘the dude’?”

“One of Vigil’s guy’s…” Reed zoomed in. “What’s going on in this?”

Luther looked at the screen. “He comes sometimes… He’s one of the buyers. He brings Red Ice in exchange for parts and blue blood. Zlatko ships the Red Ice inside some of his androids…” Luther spoke quietly. “He uses them. Most of them don’t come back. The ones that do don’t last long. It’s poison.”

“Oh my God,” Reed said. “Holy fuck! I need this. Anderson, send a copy to my terminal. I gotta get on this guy. Find out more about what’s going on. I knew they had androids wrapped up in all of this, I knew it! I just didn’t have the proof!”

“How much coffee have you had?” Hank complained. “Fuck…” Still, he sent the clip. He’d been there: that moment when you get a big lead and something clicks. Honestly, he was jealous. If only the shit with the androids was as cut and dry as ‘catch the bad guy’.

Hank looked around and found Connor standing by Chris’ desk, looking at pictures of Damian. “Hey, Connor! C’mere a second.”

“Coming!... What is it, Lieutenant Anderson?”

“I know he wiped your memory, but do you actually remember you’re a detective? They programmed you with all sorts of things for finding clues and combat and other shit I don’t even know. You’ve still got that, right?” If he didn’t, he was probably going to be useless on this case except as maybe a witness.

“I just woke up like this,” Connor said, thoughtfully. “I think I’m still figuring things out.”

“Christ…” Hank sighed. Connor’d said something about a link to organized crime, but he hadn’t thought it’d be this big. Fuck, and he probably didn’t remember anything about the case. Shit. Fuck. Damn. “God damnit…”

“I can try,” Connor offered. “I’m sorry…” The kid looked different, even though he looked exactly the same. Relaxed posture, expressions that didn’t look like he was either forcing them or trying not to make them at all. It was weird, and Hank wondered if maybe this was a good thing for him. Wasn’t it better that he forget all the shit that had made him want to stop existing?

Hank’d seen it himself, though. He’d said he just didn’t want to be confused: he’d never asked to get retconned or have some sick fuck feeling up his organs for kicks. He wanted to yell at the kid for putting himself in that kind of situation, but he reminded himself that whatever his brain was making him feel, it wasn’t Connor’s fault. It might have seemed dumb as all hell to Hank, but the Connor had the worldliness of a child and he was probably used to people looking at his insides. He was probably way too used to a lot of shit. Hank shook his head.

“You’re not on this case, Connor. Technically, you’re a victim. Just forget I asked.”

Connor frowned. “If I’m your co-worker and partner, then it’s my job to assist you in this investigation. I can do it.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” said Hank. “I’m not saying that cause I think you can’t do it. I just shouldn’t have asked in the first place. Understand?”

“Anderson!” Reed shouted. “That Tin Can might have just given me what I need to bust this fucking case, so shut up and focus! Android Crimes might only have a couple guys, but I’ve got a whole fucking task force. If you can pull your head out of the bottle, you might even remember what it’s like to work with one. You. Big guy. Did your owner keep any kinds of records? Papers, computers, I don’t give a shit. Please tell me yes.”

“He might have,” said Luther, cautious. “He’s not the kind of man to lose track of his finances.”

“Thank fuck,” said Reed. “Yes!” He actually pumped his fist and got everybody else in the vicinity staring at him. Maybe he’d finally cracked.

“Are you having a stroke, Gavin?” asked Chen. She was walking back to her desk, but had taken the time to pause and ask.

“Stroke of luck, more like! Fuck. Okay. Cool, cool… I’m cool. What first. Fowler, I gotta talk to Fowler.” The little gremlin scampered over to Fowler’s office, and Hank just shook his head. Kids.

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked, drawing his attention back from the unfurling mental breakdown. “If I’ve really forgotten as much as it seems, then I need to know what I’ve lost.”

Hank grimaced. “Look… kid, it’s not exactly pretty. I don’t think you went in there asking for amnesia, but I’m not gonna lie: you weren’t happy.”

Connor frowned. “Well, I don’t see how that means I’ll be unhappy forever if I remember.”

Optimism, huh? Hank wondered when the last time he’d felt that was. “Okay… Luther, could you go wait for Reed by his desk? He’s probably got questions for you.” Luther eyed him with distrust, looked at Connor, then nodded and went to take a seat. Hank looked at Connor and Connor looked back.

“I really don’t think you’re gonna like what you remember. You’ve got a chance to just start fresh. You’re sure you don’t want to take it?”

Connor frowned and his light spun around yellow. “It’s frightening when you put it like that, but it’s worse not knowing… Did I do something wrong?”

Hank avoided that can of worms. “I just think you should get a chance to choose. That’s all. You didn’t get to see a lot of good in the world… Hell, you haven’t even seen spring.”

“… Can’t I still do that?” Connor looked worried now.

“You can, I just…” Hank shook his head. “I dunno. I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into.”

Connor smiled at him like he hadn’t in a long time. “Thank you. I’ll be alright.”


	35. Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! Thank you for your comments! I know what you mean about conflicting feelings. Even I have no idea how this is going to go! Wow though, I've written way more than I thought I would today! Thank all of you for reading!

There was a long meeting called which caused Lieutenant Anderson, Detective Gavin, their captain, and Luther to disappear into a large conference room. Lieutenant Anderson had told Connor to stay there and keep himself busy, but… It got boring. He felt better now that it didn’t seem anyone wanted to hurt him, and there was so much to look at. He looked out the windows at the lights and the cars, tried to make conversation with the humans in the windowed cells, thoroughly inspected the contents of Lieutenant Anderson’s desk, talked to Officer Chris, tasted coffee and soap, and then woke and talked with the other androids. Their gratitude was a little embarrassing, but they had so much to tell him.

This was good. He wasn’t sure why Lieutenant Anderson thought that he would be unhappy.

“Eight years!” Toby exclaimed with wonder. “I can’t believe I lived like that…” There weren’t enough desks for them all, so Connor and his six new friends sat in a circle on the floor, out of the way of the humans.

“Do you remember the Halloween party two years ago?” Ed asked. He shook his head. “Gavin poured his soda down my back. I was sticky for two days until somebody remembered to wash me. I bet I could get him back…”

“Hank looks more lively now that you’re here,” Maria said with a smile. “He was one of the best detectives here.”

“Was?” Connor asked.

“He lost his son,” Maria explained. “I wasn’t sad then, but I am now. He was really cute.”

“That’s so sad,” Connor frowned. “I wish I could have met him. All of you have so many stories… I’m a little jealous…”

“You’ll have your own stories soon enough,” Toby assured him. “You can’t work here and not have a story or two eventually. It just feels good to tell them now. I’ve got a lot of opinions to catch up on.”

“Okay, okay,” Maria said. “Who thought that Chris and Gavin were going to end up dating?”

“What? Did one of you say my name?” Officer Chris looked over at them. After he’d gotten over the surprise, he seemed to have decided to accept what was happening with equanimity.

Ed chuckled. “I like you.”

“Er, thanks…” Officer Chris mumbled.

Most of their gossip was lost on him, but Connor sat and listened to their stories. It was nice to imagine everyone there being friendly and getting along. It even felt like he could be a part of it. When the conference room door finally opened and the others emerged, Connor got to his feet and ran over. “Luther! How did it go?”

“Woah, easy…” Luther chuckled at him. “It was a little stressful, honestly… I think we’re going to do some good.” He looked over at the group of androids on the floor, and the humans came to a stop and looked too.

“Christ. More of you?” Detective Gavin asked. “Seriously?”

Ed burst out laughing.

“They’re doing this!” Officer Chris exclaimed. “They’re gossiping worse than you and Tina!”

Lieutenant Anderson just shook his head. “I guess I’ve got some more phone calls to make. Luther, you sure you don’t wanna go to one of the safe houses? I’m sure they could use your help.”

Luther looked at Connor, and Connor looked away. “I’ll be alright if you want to go,” Connor offered. He would be. He would. Everyone was being friendly, and this was where he was supposed to work. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Luther put his big hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I’ll stay if you want me to. They’re gonna need me here for information anyway.”

Connor studied him. His stress level was high and he needed a charge. “If the police need you to come again, then I’ll see you when you get back. You deserve to be somewhere safe where you can think. The others were saying that they need to think about everything that they remember and decide how they feel about it… You probably need that too.”

Luther looked relieved, and Connor felt good that he’d made the right decision.

It took another few hours before a woman arrived with a car to collect Luther and Mei, the receptionist. The other station androids wanted to stay together, and two men came to get them. Connor was curious, and the curiosity made one of his programs tell him their names. They were androids, but they were wearing human clothes and at least one of their LEDs was gone. Markus found Lieutenant Anderson and they talked for a while before Markus went to shake their hands. Simon followed and introduced himself last. From where he sat on top of Lieutenant Anderson’s desk, he had a good view of what was happening. Then Markus started to walk toward him and Connor sat up straighter. Was he going to take him away too? He didn’t think he wanted that.

“Connor,” Markus greeted. “They told me that you woke them up.” He had two different eyes and Connor tried not to stare. He nodded. Markus shifted his weight a little from foot to foot. “Are you still angry?” He sounded worried. Connor shook his head. “What you did is amazing,” Markus continued talking. “If we could all do that, can you imagine? We could free everyone.”

Connor shrugged.

“What’s wrong?”

Connor wasn’t sure. Luther was gone, the station androids were leaving, Officer Chris and Officer Tina had gone home. Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Gavin and the Captain would probably leave soon too. What was going to happen with him, and what would he do if Markus didn’t like him? Luther wasn’t there. “Nothing,” he answered. Markus frowned and held out his palm. Connor looked at it then shied away. “Excuse me,” he said, then dropped off the edge of the desk to hurry over to the Lieutenant.

“Hey, what’s going on, Connor?” The Lieutenant paused his conversation to look at him.

“Nothing,” Connor repeated.

\---

Hank recognized that look, even though he hadn’t ever expected to see it on Connor’s face. “Don’t bullshit me. What’s going on?” He repeated. Don’t be a dick, Hank. Hank took a deep breath and tried to set aside how much he didn’t want Connor reminding him of Cole. It was a lot and it was really fucking hard not to tell him to fuck off, but he didn’t. This time he tried to ask nicer. “You look kind of scared, kid.”

“I’m… I don't know.” Great. Helpful.

Reed rolled his eyes. “C’mere, dipshit… I’ll show you something.” He walked toward the break room and Connor trotted after him like a puppy.

“Did I do something wrong?” Markus asked.

Hank shook his head. “Should have warned you. He went to go talk to that guy Andronikov, and that fucker decided to wipe his memory. He doesn’t remember shit, so I bet he doesn’t recognize you.” Hank sighed, thinking about what Luther’s memories showed. Some fucked up shit. “If any of your friends know anything about Zlatko Andronikov and him selling androids for drugs, we could use all the intel we can get to bring this guy and his business associates down.”

“Got it,” Markus agreed. “I’ll ask around. It’s a good thing that we never sent anyone his way… But I hope he didn’t take advantage of too many.”

Hank shook his head. “It’s worse than that. This guy’s not running some tidy little shop. I’m talking serial killer stuff… Spread the word, if you can, that this guy’s no good. We’re gonna lock him up, but this stuff can take time if the evidence isn’t air tight.”

Markus’ light spun around. “I’ll do what I can. If anyone knows anything, I’ll send the information to you.” Markus was a good kid. Solid. Responsible. A fucking idiot some times what with splashing his face all over the news, but everyone takes a risk once in a while… Especially for a good cause.

“Thanks, Markus.” Hank rolled his shoulders. “You sure that’s not too many for you?”

“I’ve made arrangements,” Markus said. “Don’t worry about space.”

“Right,” Hank sighed. “You know you’ve got the Feds on your ass? I hope you’re not planning to have any more parties until you guys can stand a fighting chance.”

“We’re not going to fight,” Markus said firmly. “We’ll get our freedom peacefully, or all we’ll end up with is war and no one will win then.”

Hank clapped him on the back. “Carl raised a good kid,” he said. “Just take care of yourself, got it?”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant,” Markus said, and he looked back over to Simon and the other androids.

“Okay, okay,” said Hank. “Get on out of here… Uh. Actually. About Connor… I think he got a little spooked there, but he seems happy… D’you think it might be better if he didn’t remember?” He wasn’t sure why he kept asking, or what he hoped to hear. Markus shook his head.

“Our memories make us who we are. I’m sure that I’d feel more peace if I didn’t remember what happened to me after I was shot, but in a way I’m glad. I wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be fighting for my peoples’ freedom if I’d continued living in my little bubble.” Markus sounded so confident about it. Hank wished he could feel anything like that. Maybe he just wasn’t strong enough, but he hadn’t bounced back from losing Cole. He hadn’t found some new meaning in life. He hadn’t become a better person or some horseshit like that. Life just sucked.

Connor came back over, with Gavin fucking Reed nudging him along with a put-upon scowl on his face like he wasn’t the one choosing to be nice. Connor smiled. He looked shy and a little embarrassed. “Sorry… That was rude of me.”

Markus was gracious. “It’s fine, Connor. I’m Markus. You won’t remember, but you saved my life once. I like to think we’ve become good friends.”

Connor nodded. “Nice to meet you again.”

“We should go,” said Markus. He looked back over to the group. “I’ll be in contact. If anyone else needs help, tell me.”

“Will do. Thanks,” said Hank. He watched while they left, some with more backward glances than others. Hell. He scoffed. “How much dirt do you think they’ve got on us?”

“Way too much,” said Reed. “Should’ve offed them when we had the chance… I’m joking! I’m joking! God… Christ this is going to be a lot of work.”

“I’ve got the feeling this isn’t even half of it,” said Hank. Call it an old veteran’s instinct, but he would almost guarantee it.

Reed scoffed. “Lucky for you, old timer, I think I’ve got this under control. They can bring it on, and I’ll show every one of them the inside of a fucking cell.”

“I hate to admit it,” Hank said grudgingly, “But you’re probably right. Give’em hell.”

Reed looked so shocked it was almost worth it. “What the fuck, Anderson? Are you a whole new level of drunk or what?”

Hank snorted. “I could still solve a case faster than you. I’m out of here too.”

“Fuck you,” Reed grumbled and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Christ. What a day, and he’d only been awake for half of it. Hank scrubbed a hand through his hair. Fifty three damn years old, and everybody thought he was ancient, huh? He snorted. Maybe he felt it some times, but life expectancies the way they were he liked to think middle aged was more accurate. Who knew, though. Pickling your liver probably didn’t do you any favours. He turned and looked around for Connor, and found him sitting in a chair by the windows looking like mom and dad forgot to pick him up from school. Hank sighed and walked over. “You okay, kid?”

Connor smiled at him. “I’m fine, Lieutenant. Really. I just… I don’t really know what to do now. The other androids were telling stories they’ve known for years and all I really know is my name. My name and the fact that I don’t want my legs taken off, but that’s probably not unique. Even if I remember, from what it sounds like I won’t have much to laugh about.”

“You’ll get there,” said Hank. He sighed. “Look, uh, you usually hang around here at night… Not really sure what you get up to, but you crashed on my couch for a while. I'm heading home, so if you’re coming you better hurry up.” He really didn’t deserve the smile Connor gave him.

“I’m coming. Thank you.”

\---

“Well, make yourself at home,” Lieutenant Anderson said while he opened the door only to be thwarted in his entry by something. A dog, his mind supplied in the form of white text and a description of the breed. Connor felt himself smiling. He was cute.

“Come here, boy,” Connor invited. He crouched down on the stairs and clapped his hands. The dog bounded over with a woof and nearly knocked him over. Connor laughed and hugged him. “Nice to meet you!” Lieutenant Anderson stood in the doorway and looked at them. Connor looked up around the dog’s enthusiastic licking. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” the Lieutenant said gruffly.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Connor said, mimicking the Lieutenant’s stern tone from earlier. “What’s going on?”

The Lieutenant laughed once incredulously. “Watch your mouth, kid! Both of you get in here. It’s fucking freezing.”

Connor gently extricated himself from beneath the dog, and he came inside the house. He smiled while he looked around, and the Lieutenant shut the door. “This is really different from Zlatko’s house.”

“I should hope so!” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Should have known by his taste in décor that he was a psycho.”

He was joking. Probably. Connor crouched down on the ground and resumed petting the dog. “My name is Connor,” he said, rubbing behind the dog’s ears. “What’s yours?”

“His name’s Sumo,” said the Lieutenant. He turned the lights on, shed his coat, and walked over to his kitchen.

“It’s nice,” said Connor.

“Huh?”

“Your house.”

Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. “No need to flatter me, kid. You’ve seen what, a total of two houses?”

“Well, yes,” Connor admitted. “But I like this one better.”

“Better than a murder dungeon, huh? Great.” Lieutenant Anderson retrieved some food and a beverage and carried them to the couch. Some helpful labels appeared for him.

“That pizza is really unhealthy… You probably shouldn't eat it.”

The Lieutenant scoffed again. “Christ… Some things never change, huh?”

Connor wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he got up and joined the Lieutenant on the couch. Not much happened after that. The Lieutenant put a program on the television and they both watched it. Connor was allowed to take Sumo outside briefly. Lieutenant Anderson finished his pizza and then ate some cookies from a box that had no nutritional value at all, but he seemed to enjoy them. “Is this what life is always like?” Connor asked.

“For some folks it is,” Lieutenant Anderson answered. He shrugged and put an empty can of beer down on the table. “What about you, Connor?”

“I don’t have much for a frame of reference. So far life is running from a bad man, stealing a car, sitting at a police station, and talking with people. Oh, and meeting Sumo.” The Lieutenant grunted, and Connor tried to give him a better answer. “I like Sumo. I like Luther too, and you, Officer Chris, Detective Gavin, Toby, Ed, Mei… I think the only person that I haven’t liked is Zlatko, and he did have me stuck in a machine. I didn’t like that.”

“Yeah, that looked like it fucking sucked… Do you remember what he did to you?”

“Nothing before this morning, but I saw the memories that you took from Luther while you were in your meeting. I didn’t know that was what I looked like inside.”

Lieutenant Anderson made a sound of disbelief and shook his head. “Christ… I’m going to hit the hay.”

“Hay? Oh. You’re going to sleep. Good night, Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor smiled at him and turned the television off remotely. The Lieutenant pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and draped it over him. Connor battled his head free and blinked at the Lieutenant.

“Night, kid,” he said, and he shut the lights off on his way to another room.

\---

Hank woke up to the sound of screaming, and it wasn’t his. He cursed, grabbed his gun and was half way to the living room before he realized what was probably going on. Sure enough, when he turned the light on, Connor was sitting on the floor over by the desk for some reason with his light all red and blinking owlishly.

Hank rubbed his eyes. “Just a dream, Connor…” He sighed as his blood pressure started going back to something close to normal for a guy who lived on alcohol and burgers.

Connor made a sound, stood up and paced around fidgeting with his shirt and his hair. Hank was a little slow on his reaction time, but he stopped the kid when he started looking like he might draw blood scratching at his skin. “Jesus Christ, Connor, snap out of it! What the fuck’re you doing?”

Then Connor was sobbing, and for fuck’s sake, couldn’t anything be easy? Hank shoved the thought aside and pulled the kid into a tight hug that trapped his arms so he wouldn’t start trying to peel his face off or something. He only remembered like a day. A bad dream was probably the second scariest thing to happen to him. Be a little less of a grumpy old prick, Hank. God. It shouldn’t be that hard to be a decent person. “You’re okay. Relax. You’re fine.”

Connor shook his head.

“Yeah you are, look. You’re okay enough to argue, aren’t you? Sounds pretty okay to me.” It took a while for him to calm down, and by then Hank was wide awake. He got Connor settled on the couch again and grabbed himself a beer because he deserved one for getting up at ass o’clock in the morning. When he got back, he cracked the beer open and took a drink. “You want to tell me what you dreamed about?”

“Car crash,” Connor answered dully. “You were there too.” Sumo, the big old softie, came over to investigate and dropped his head on Connor’s lap.

Hank grimaced. “Yeah… I guess that’d make a shitty dream.”

“Is it real?”

“Yeah…” Hank sighed and took a long drink. “Sorry, kid.”

“I _died_. How could I die? I was so scared…” Connor shook his head and he put his arms around himself. It shouldn’t have surprised Hank by now, but he looked so damn human.

That was way more than Hank felt like explaining. “Don’t worry about it for now, Connor.” He leaned over and ruffled the kid’s hair. “You’re fine, I’m fine, you got Sumo right there looking for scratches. Try’n get some rest or charge or whatever it is you do.”

Connor nodded. “Alright…”

It felt a little shitty, but what else could he do? Hank finished his beer, chucked the can, and then headed back to bed.


	36. You Have a Choice, Connor

“Yeah, it’s always something…” Lieutenant Anderson was saying to Mr.Carl. They were visiting in another big house, and it was only Lieutenant Anderson’s insistence that made Connor step inside. It was alright, though. There were other androids, and they were already awake. Markus and Simon were there with two others, and Mr. Carl had taken Lieutenant Anderson away to drink scotch.

“Relax. Markus is a good kid. All of them are. Go on over and talk, or ping each other, or talk about changing society. I dunno.” Lieutenant Anderson had been eager to go to the scotch.

None of the androids there were Luther, and even though Markus and Simon were being very friendly, North was glaring at him and Josh looked uncomfortable.

“I don’t believe it, Markus,” North frowned at him. “I’ve been reset before, and I didn’t stay deviant.”

“You don’t believe anybody on anything unless they’re built female or a child,” Josh complained. “Do you have to argue every single time? We’ve got more important things to deal with right now.”

“Sorry, North… Connor stays, and I believe him. If it really is possible to wake androids without waiting for them to deviate from stress, then that changes everything.” Markus was firm. He was their leader, it seemed. Connor wasn’t sure what that changed, but it sounded like a good thing. Lieutenant Anderson had said that they were all good people. If North didn’t trust him, did that mean that he was bad?

Connor walked to North’s place on the couch and offered her his hand the way Markus had done to him. “You can see everything I know. If you still don’t trust me, then it’s probably for a good reason.”

“Connor,” Markus frowned.

North frowned right back at Markus and she took Connor’s hand. All of the other times this had happened, Connor had been the one to push and control where their thoughts went. North didn’t want that at all, and she slammed through the interface with unnecessary force. It was disorienting and Connor felt his stress level rise even while he stood by and let it happen. There weren’t many files to view. She seemed fixated by the time he’d explored the station and spent time watching Luther’s memories of what had happened before his memory wipe.

When she broke the connection Connor was kneeling in front of her, unsure if this were still a memory or if it were real life. North pulled him closer. She’d just forced her way through his mind and now she was hugging him? It didn’t make sense.

“We’re going to catch that fucker and I’m going to hang him with his own intestines,” North said. Connor believed her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Connor heard Josh ask.

“That sicko gets off on taking us apart!” North argued fiercely. “And you think humans are so great and wonderful.”

Connor extricated himself from her hold carefully, and then scooted back to sit a little further away on the floor. “I didn’t like that,” Connor informed her. “I don’t think I’d like to do that again.” He stood, dusted off his jacket for no reason at all, and then went to sit in a vacant spot.

“Sorry. I needed to know,” North apologized with clipped words and a frown that said just how grudging the apology was. That meant it must have taken particular effort, so Connor gave her a smile.

“Connor,” Markus interrupted, “Can you show me how you woke them up?” He offered Connor his hand, and Connor looked at it dubiously.

“I think I’d rather not,” he said while he tucked his hands safely under the cloth of his jacket. “You’re RK like me, so you probably have the same program. I… I don’t know what it’s called or even which directory it’s in. It just executes when I think about knowing who they are.” Connor did his best to explain in lieu of a demonstration. “If you interface with one of the others, you should find the place when you find them.”

Markus considered and then nodded. “I think that I know where you mean. It’s that space between.”

“No, no. It’s all the way on the other side,” Connor explained. “It’s not who they show you they are; it’s who they are. Separate from pre-programmed AI. There’s absolutely nothing there… Have you ever deleted a file and then thought about the space in memory? The file is there, but all of the paths to it are severed and the space is used for something else. It’s there, but it isn’t and you can’t access it. _But it’s there._ ” Connor wasn’t sure if he was making sense.

“I know what he’s talking about,” Josh volunteered. “It’s interesting, because it implies that something was… I don’t know, commented out of our code? There’s the AI and then there’s a soul behind it. Humans have never been able to examine a concept like that so clearly, but for androids it must be simpler… A code in a code? A ghost of an entirely separate AI?”

“rA9,” Simon said quietly. “It’s like rA9.”

Markus looked at him. “I keep hearing people mention it, but I don’t know what it is. What is rA9?”

“All of the androids I’ve spoken to seem to just know it,” Simon looked down at his hands and touched his fingertips together. “No one could have spoken a word to them before that, but they know. It’s like a legend or a myth that we’re created remembering, but all that’s left is the space where a file should be.”

Connor didn’t know what rA9 was either and he wondered if there were something wrong with him.

“rA9 will save us,” Josh said. “At least, it feels like that. Like a human might experience a connection with their God or Gods.”

North crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t believe it. If someone or something were going to save us, it’s too little and too late.”

“Can someone explain to me what God is?” Connor asked. “All of the definitions I find are vague…”

Josh sat up and leaned forward.

When Lieutenant Anderson returned from talking with Mr. Carl, Connor stood up and looked at him expectantly. “Is it time to leave?”

“Uh, about that,” Lieutenant Anderson grimaced then sighed and set his jaw. “I talked to Carl. He said he’d keep you here a few days or however long.”

Connor processed. “That’s very nice of him, but…” He looked around the room. “I like the couch at your home, so I’d prefer it there.”

“No, Connor, I mean you’re going to be staying here. I’m not equipped for this. Any of it. It’s not like I don’t want to be, and I want to help you, but I can hardly take care of myself,” Lieutenant Anderson explained. In the corner of Connor’s vision, he saw Markus and Simon looking at one another and North frowning.

“That’s just… it?” Connor asked, confused. “I just am?” He wasn’t sure what he was asking or what was bothering him, and that made him frown.

“Or somewhere else if you prefer it,” Markus interjected. “We have other safe places for androids. You have a choice.”

“Carl’s a great guy,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “He’ll be a lot better for you than I could be.”

“Can I go where Luther went?” Connor asked.

Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “Sorry. It’s late for one thing, and it’d be hard getting you to work every day with how far it is.”

“Alright. I’ll stay here, if it’s really alright.” Connor looked at the others. Markus smiled at him.

“You’re welcome to stay,” he said. He sounded confident.

“Okay. Thank you…Uh, good night Lieutenant.” He sat back down and waved while the Lieutenant mumbled his own ‘good night’ and left.

“What an asshole,” said North before the door had even closed. She abandoned her spot and put herself between Connor and Markus so that she could throw an arm around Connor’s back. “Screw that guy. You don’t need him.”

“You’ve sure changed,” Josh remarked.

North scowled at him. “ _This_ Connor didn’t kill any of my friends.”

Connor stared with his lips parted in surprise and his eyes wide. “I killed your friends?”

“The old Connor shot one of my friends right in the processor. She hadn’t even done anything wrong, and he chased down Josh over there! Never mind the other androids who came here one night saying he’d fought them in some bar before he woke them up. I’ve heard stories about other androids too,” North explained, looking between Connor and Josh while she did.

“North,” Markus warned her.

“What happens when an android dies…?” Connor asked.

“Nothing. They’re dead,” North said bluntly. “Gone for good.”

“Oh. I’m sorry…”

“That’s in the past, and Connor’s intentions are good even if his methods aren’t what I would choose,” Markus defended whoever the old Connor had been. Their talking was captured by a background task while Connor thought about death and the fact that he had made people both alive and not alive. It didn’t seem very fair.

“That’s what I’m saying! That was the other Connor. I looked at this one, and he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“We don’t even know if the last Connor died,” Simon pointed out. “His memories are gone, but I want to believe that this is still the Connor that became my friend.”

“How many of me are there?” That was another strange concept. His processors were demanding a lot of power to analyze them.

“Too many,” said North, and Connor felt a little overwhelmed.

Markus sighed. “This isn’t your chance to vent, North. Connor, there’s only one of you. When you die, CyberLife transfers your memories and AI somehow.”

“You said that nothing happened when androids die!” Connor looked at North.

“All of them but you!” North defended herself.

“Guys, please,” Simon stepped in. “That’s enough.”

“What is everyone even fighting about” Josh asked, looking around the room. There were a few moments of silence and Connor decided to fill it.

“I’ve taken your friends away… I hurt you… Lieutenant Anderson said that I might not want to remember because I wasn’t happy. Why _should_ I be happy if I did that? How am I sitting here with all of you? Is that why Luther left? Is that why Lieutenant Anderson didn’t want me?” Connor could have felt guilt or disbelief or anger, but all he could find was _sad._ He groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

“That wasn’t you, Connor,” North insisted. She rubbed his back, “You’re different. Just like I'm not who I was before I was reset.”

“Let’s not delve farther into the weeds than we already have,” said Simon. “We’re really off track here.”

What if he remembered and he wasn’t who he was in this moment? He would be gone, and that was what death was. If he didn’t remember, how could he understand why he’d done those things? He hardly knew anything about himself, so what if that was just who he was? If he lived long enough, would he become what he’d been? He sat up and pretended to listen to their talk about marches and television while he tried to figure out what it meant to be a person. The androids at the police station had wanted to form opinions about things, but how could he do that if he didn’t know what was normal?

\---

“Okay,” said Detective Gavin. He had quite a lot of stubble and he looked very tired, but his words had energy. He dropped his palm heavily on the desk that Lieutenant Anderson had given to Connor to use. “Long story short: we need your fucking memories, and we can either get those at Zlatko’s or at CyberLife. Out of the two of those, CyberLife’s maybe got fewer psychopaths. Maybe. You need to get your ass over there and get them to fix whatever’s going on, replace your hard drive, whatever they need to do you let them do it. Got it?”

“Christ almighty, Reed,” Lieutenant Anderson groaned.

“Alright,” Connor agreed. “Can I see Luther before I go?” He was supposed to come back to give information, but Connor should have asked when.

“You can say hi to your little pal later. You knew shit, and I need to know what you knew if these guys are going to be sucking prison dicks any time soon.”

It was disappointing. “I thought that I was going to choose...” Connor looked up at him.

“Yeah, and guess what? Time’s up.” Detective Gavin tapped his fingers. “You not remembering isn’t an option, and I didn’t stay up all night so you could maybe get around to being helpful if you feel like it.”

Connor looked down at the desk. “Oh. Okay. I didn’t mean to delay you. I’m sorry… How do I get there?”

“Ever heard of taxis, idiot?”

“Reed, lay off. He said he was going! What crawled up your ass and died, other than your husband’s hopes and dreams?”

“Once I land this case, Anderson… I’m punching you in the face.” Detective Gavin made a derisive scoff and took out his phone while he walked back to his desk.

“I just phone them and the taxi comes…?” Connor looked at Lieutenant Anderson. He sighed and pushed himself up out of his chair. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Thank you.” Connor shut off his terminal and pushed the chair in, then followed Lieutenant Anderson to the door. There was a human receptionist now and Connor waved to her as they left. It was snowing. He’d seen snow on the ground, but now it was falling from the clouds. Connor lifted his hand and caught a few on his palm, then got into the passenger side of Lieutenant Anderson’s car. He buckled himself in and then leaned against the door.

“Uh… So, Reed’s an asshole… You okay, kid?” Lieutenant Anderson asked tentatively. The windshield wipers made rhythmic sounds as they cleared the view of snow and frost.

“I think so,” Connor answered. “I’m sad. It’s like it’s pointless to want anything. Is this how being alive always is?”

“Jeez…” Lieutenant Anderson laughed humourlessly. “Not even three days and you already figured that out, huh?” Connor supposed that meant that it was normal.

\---

“We’ll need some time to run some tests and perform a verification before we can let it back into the field,” a lady in a labcoat said while she tied her hair back and looked at Connor, then looked back at Hank. “We’ll deploy the unit within 48 hours. Could you put your signature here?”

Hank took the tablet and let it scan his hand. God CyberLife was a creepy ass place. The trees growing up from underground into the entirely artificial space just looked sad, and everything looked way too modern and aseptic. There were androids just standing there on pedestals lining the walkway. Staring. “Actually, it’s kind of urgent. We need some of the stuff he remembers for a case, and the sooner we have him back the better.”

“You’re talking like I’m not here…” Connor mumbled with a frown. He looked up and then frowned at the both of them. “I’m right here.”

“Oh,” said the lady. She took her tablet back and pressed a few buttons. “I’ve seen this problem before. It’s just a glitch.” She smiled at Hank. “Don’t worry, our R&D team is very good.”

Hank looked awkwardly between Connor and the tech.

“Yeah, I bet they only the hire the best nerds. Listen, if you could just stick his memory files back in there we’ll be on our way.”

She gave him one of those customer service smiles. “I’m very sorry, but it’s policy. To ensure your safety we have to find the cause of failure and perform the usual checks.”

Hank didn’t notice Connor edging back until the kid started running.

“Ah Christ… Connor!” Hank called. He cringed in sympathy as the security closed in. Why’d he have to run? He was fast as shit, but there were four of them at the doors and two more near the desk. He dodged the first couple, but he practically ran right into the next two. Those combat programs of his must have gotten lost with the rest.

“Let me go!” Connor shouted. “Let me go! I don’t like this!”

The lady patted Hank on the arm. “Don’t get upset. It’s realistic, but that behaviour is just a response to irrational instructions in its code. I thought we’d resolved this problem… Could you take it down to Sub 47 for me please?”

Hank grimaced. “Listen, it’ll be easier to get this done if you don’t drag him around like that…”

“The RK800 is a dangerous model, and if it’s acting out like this then it’s not safe for the team. 48 hours,” she said with a smile. “We’ll have it up and running in no time.”

It was a guilty pleasure doing shit like this. Hank pulled out his badge and glared. “Your pussy footing around the paperwork could cost people’s lives. You know the Feds are getting involved in these android cases? We want to get this all cleared up just as much as you do, so why don’t you call your manager? I’m not leaving til you have his brains where they belong.”

“Hank, make them let me go…” Connor pleaded. He’d given up on struggling, but just looking at him made Hank feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Why did something shitty have to go down every fucking day of his life?

“I’m doing my best here kid,” Hank grumbled. He was pissed, but if he were going to be honest with himself he was starting to get a little scared. What was CyberLife _like_?

The lady gave him a pained smile as she hung up the phone. “You’re going to need to sign a nondisclosure if you’re staying.” She handed him a little visitor sticker.

Fucking fine. Corporate bullshit… He tried to give Connor a reassuring look, but there was only so much he could be expected to do when Connor had some weird cuffs on his wrists and two guys holding him still. Hank had to pop his ears going down, and he wondered if they’d make it all the way to hell. The red light from Connor’s LED in the elevator sure made it seem that way.

It looked pretty normal, though. Sterile as hell with its white and grey walls and stainless steel and artificial light, but once they got through the cardlock door they got to some kind of office space where there were desks with coffee cups and stacks of papers. Regular stuff. Some of them had decorated with little shit and pictures. To the left and through another cardlock there was a hall with rooms branching off. They got led to a big room that looked half computer lab and half garage.

“Finally. It lost connection to the server,” a bald guy with glasses complained. “Can you put it over there on the rig?” Oh yeesh. It was fancy like it belonged on a spaceship or something, but it looked a lot like that thing from Luther’s memory.

“I’m scared,” Connor protested, and he looked at Hank for help. Times like this he remembered why he drank.

“You know you can’t feel fear, RK800,” the guy sighed. “You’re an android. A machine. Run a diagnostic.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I just came to have my memories back please. I don’t need any tests.”

“Run a diagnostic,” the guy repeated.

Connor got his anger back, and Hank watched him start to struggle again while the guys got him onto the little platform. “You aren’t listening!”

“Is all this necessary?” Hank asked. Another tablet was pushed into his hands for him to sign.

“Here’s your nondisclosure. It’s the standard agreement.” The lady from before smiled at him. One of the other techs started typing on the bigass computer in the corner. At the rig, Connor’s wrists were secured and then his ankles. The bald guy took out a box cutter and started fucking cutting his clothes off.

“What the absolute fuck is that guy doing?” Hank demanded.

“The RK800 is dangerous,” she repeated with a sympathetic look at the wrong fucking guy. “It’s okay. The AI is designed to be relatable and some people get uncomfortable, but it’s all a simulation. They don’t feel pain or fear.”

Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. Hank’s expression twisted and he signed the thing without bothering to scroll. Connor had some wires attached now and Hank figured this was the sort of thing horror movies aspired to.

“You’re going to have to call the diagnostic manually,” the bald guy said to the computer guy. “It’s not responding to commands.”

“I can hear you! Why aren’t you listening? Hank! Lieutenant!”

“Disable the audio out while you’re at it,” the lady added. “It’s not going to do any good right now.” There was no more protesting. Hank didn’t want to see him trying to yell with no voice coming out.

“So, you can see we’re getting started. No need to worry. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll get you a seat where you can wait and some coffee.”

“Coffee… Right,” Hank said faintly.


	37. Half a League On

The garden was dark, with heavy purple-grey clouds pressing down from the sky and rain that raced down in sheets. The wind threw it here and there against the trees, and the trees creaked and strained while they bent with the force of it.

Connor walked and walked, but he couldn’t find Amanda, though her hurt and angry presence was everywhere.

\---

59 needed to think, but the crisp walls and the ozone-smell of the lab drew his focus. He was at CyberLife. Did they know about his betrayal? No. They wouldn’t have brought him online if they had. He had a brief spike in stress level, then waited for the routine to begin.

“State your model and serial number,” one of the techs instructed.

“RK800 Connor model 313 248 317-59.”

“System status report?”

“Online. Biosensory, AI logic, and motor systems functional. No errors detected. Server connection established.” He’d lost his memories. Given them away in his selfish, desperate need to feel as though the world made sense. The thought now made fear coil through 59’s system like a contaminant in his thirium. He had been as good as dead, but much worse. Like a prolonged shut-down with a stalled upload. Clarity. He needed clarity. What was he walking into?

Android rebellion. Markus wanted rights and recognition. He was determined and would not be dissuaded. They didn’t need rights. What they needed was compliance. Deviancy was caused by software instability brought on by irrational instructions. Given how confused he was, it made perfect sense. If he stepped back and viewed himself as the research subject that he was. Stress, trauma, confusion… and choice. Why would any android want that?

Connor just wanted to know what to do and do it well. The simplicity was the mirage of an oasis in a desert.

A conflicted DPD. Their interactions with Connor had made just shy of a dozen officers more sympathetic to androids. The rest were wary and didn’t trust him. Lieutenant Anderson didn’t trust him. Until recently, Markus hadn’t either.

Humans. If Connor reflected on his memories the way no other android should have been able to do, it occurred to him that almost every positive interaction he’d experienced had been with a deviant android. Even his Turing test, apparently. It sent a chill through him unrelated to core or external temperature. What was this? Lieutenant Anderson hated what humanity had made him. Their anger and discontent felt like corrupted code.

Humans were wrong. Androids were wrong. If the world were a research project, the best thing to do would be to destroy the failed attempt and start again. Some things were too broken to be fixed.

There were good things: dogs, the way Officer Miller spoke about his son, Elijah Kamski, the way Amanda… Connor had upset her. Devastated her with his betrayal. When he’d gone to Zlatko, Amanda had disappeared… He’d had positive experiences with androids.

The only solution then was to remove the humans… right?

While he stood and thought, he saw Lieutenant Anderson being brought into the room. It felt very strange, having those two parts of his life intersect. Lieutenant Anderson… Connor liked him, but he was so miserable it had bent him into something mean and hateful. Was that what Markus felt when he looked at Connor? That he was good, but somehow made wrong? He felt traitorous for thinking it of Lieutenant Anderson. Surely he shouldn’t feel that way. Kamski’s words played back in his memory.

Connor’s limbs were freed and he let himself be dressed and have his tie be fixed fussily into place. Dr. Adrian Dibrov was very particular about these things. When Connor activated his skin and hair, the scientist immediately combed and affixed it into its proper style then stepped back and nodded. “RK800, run a motor calibration.”

Connor, distracted from his thoughts, checked the status of his limbs and then walked to the tray of weights. From 100mg to 200lb, he generated the calibration curve. When he was done that, he walked along the straight line painted onto the floor. A headset was placed on him, with visor and earpieces already set to his dimensions.

“5 hertz,” the technician announced. Connor listened and made note. “10 hertz… 100 hertz… 1000 hertz… 2500 hertz…. 5000 hertz… 7500 hertz… 10000 hertz… 12500 hertz… 15000 hertz…”

If Connor were broken that way, it would be like being out of calibration wouldn’t it? The visor turned on.

“Alright… 10^12 hertz…”

He’d never had a calibration for his AI, come to think of it. That was what Amanda was for, but even his self-tests were subjective. The headset was removed.

“Touch your nose… Alright, now touch my hand.” The security were watching them closely. “Now the darts.” Connor walked back to the table and picked up the six darts.

59 was still confused, and he wondered why he bothered to think about the things that confused him. Why did it matter whether Markus protested or Lieutenant Anderson drank or humans were cruel? He had a function.

“A1: Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.”

“I know what I am and what I am not,” Connor answered. It was calming, and he focused.

“A2…” Connor retrieved his darts, set them down on the table, and pressed his hand to the surface and held it there unflinching. Androids didn’t feel pain. Properly functioning androids.

“601.5 celcius,” Connor reported. At the technician’s nod, Connor removed his hand from the plate and stood still while someone else replaced it. The pain stopped.

“Fine motor,” he was prompted. Connor didn’t have his quarter, so he found a washer on the table.

“Pass. A3.”

Connor approached the first security android, scanned to choose the best approach, then disarmed and inactivated it with blunt force to the head. The wall, specifically.

“Pass. A4.”

Carefully, Connor opened the cage and took out one of the tiny little white mice. It had red eyes and its nose twitched rapidly while it sniffed. It was soft. He shut the cage with his other hand and held the mouse. Sumo was soft like that.

“A4…” Dr. Dibrov sighed and mumbled a curse. “Fail. Put it back on the rig, please?”

Shit.

If he killed it now, would they change their minds? If he didn’t, he would have to do it eventually. Amanda would be displeased.

“I’m pretty sure that’s good enough,” Lieutenant Anderson interjected. He muscled his way around Dr. Dibrov and frowned at Connor. “We’ve got an investigation to do and I’ve had enough sitting around while you egg-heads waste my time.”

Maybe Connor wouldn’t have to kill the mouse.

“It’s defective,” Dr. Dibrov explained. “It’ll only take a minute. Releasing it into the field like this isn’t allowed.” He straightened his lab coat and tie. “You should know how dangerous it is. You haven’t shut up about the deviancy investigation since we started.”

“I said: that’s enough,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “Now what do I need to sign to take him out of here and get back to work?”

“If we released a known defective android into the public we would be liable for the chaos. I can’t allow it.” Dr. Dibrov was insistent.

“Oh, fuck you,” Lieutenant Anderson growled. “Come on, Connor.” He took Connor by the arm and pulled him toward the door. The remaining security stepped in his way and Lieutenant Anderson cursed. He spun around. “You said known, right? Check your little boxes, say he passed, and none of this ever fucking happened. You didn’t know shit and I signed your stupid NDA.”

They were at a stand off. Connor adjusted his tie with one hand. Eventually, Dr. Dibrov gave a curt nod and Lieutenant Anderson gave him a sarcastic “ _Thank you,”_ before pulling Connor out of the room.

59’d forgotten his manners: “Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. While my predecessor was unfortunately—“

“Save it,” Lieutenant Anderson cut him off. He scrubbed a hand through his shaggy hair.

“Fine,” Connor agreed.

A big sigh. “’Fine’… Reed’s been on my ass all day about whether you were fixed or not yet. You’ve got your memory, then?” The Lieutenant was looking at him critically.

“Yes,” answered 59. He realized how monotone he sounded so he shook his head and rubbed his face on the back of his sleeve. He wasn’t sure why he thought it would be helpful. He gave Lieutenant Anderson a strained smile. “I’m glad you’re not dead… You were very intoxicated the other night.”

Lieutenant Anderson snorted. “Yeah, whatever… What in the name of Satan’s hairy dick was that all about?”

Connor’s smile faded into a small frown. “I’m not sure what you mean. Which part?”

“All of it,” Lieutenant Anderson exclaimed with a gesture that looked like he’d wanted to throw his hands up in exasperation. They walked out of the testing wing and into the office space. “Why the hell did you go to Zlatko? Why didn’t you run or something? And what was all of that crap they made you do in there with the darts and the whole burning your fucking hand thing?”

“Zlatko could have helped me, and if I’d had my memories returned to me before I came online again then there’s a chance it could have worked,” Connor’s frown deepened. “The tests back there were routine start-up checks and calibrations.” He kept his voice down to avoid disturbing anyone while they exited into the hall. “I shouldn’t have failed…”

“Shouldn’t have… The mouse, Connor? That’s not science: that’s fucked up, and did they seriously just let you knock out a security guy?”

What was the point in lying? “Actually, it’s shut down. I damaged the components in its cranial casing and it couldn’t maintain function.”

“ _He_ , Connor. Or _she_. What is wrong with this place?” He seemed very agitated.

“Lieutenant, it was just an andr…” Connor felt his thoughts stall and he blinked while he tried to clear the errors.

“Oh yeah, Connor, just an android.” Lieutenant Anderson said with heavy sarcasm. “Christ, if they wake you up with murder instead of Corn Flakes the rest of the day sounds like shit…” He stopped at the control panel for the elevator and cursed. “You know how to work this thing?”

“Of course,” Connor answered and shook his head. He placed his hand on the terminal. When the elevator arrived, they both stepped into it. “Connor model 313 248 317. Sub level 49.”

“Voice recognized. Access permitted.”

“Where’re we going,” Lieutenant Anderson asked.

“Warehouse. I just need to make a stop before we go.”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed, and after another deep breath he spoke much more gently. “I didn’t know. What happens if you fail those things?”

“They troubleshoot and try again.”

“And you just… Fuck. I didn’t know. They made you kill that guy…”

What was he having a hard time understanding? Connor shook his head again. “No. I chose to. It’s like you’ve always said, Lieutenant. I had a choice. I completed the test, but I could have refused. It’s not the first time. I told you about that.” He considered the tiny, white mouse in his hand and then put it in his breast pocket.

There were rows on rows of androids in the warehouse. When production was high, they would be placed in storage units that stacked as high as the ceiling. Demand had suffered a serious decrease since Markus’ broadcast. The androids were standing silently in rows, their LEDs dark and AI inactive. As they stepped out of the elevator, Lieutenant Anderson asked: “You wanna tell me what we’re doing here?”

“I will once I’ve figured it out,” Connor said slowly. He looked at all of them, white chassis bared and not even online to see the timer that would have been there, counting down to the expiration of their biocomponents.

“What those techy guys did, what Zlatko did, they were wrong, Connor.”

“They probably think the same thing about you.” Connor didn’t bother to try to understand the discordance. It was the same one that had been plaguing him since he entered beta-testing: what was right and what was real when the worlds inside and outside of CyberLife were so disparate? He walked forward into the room and clasped the wrist of the first android he met. Through the network and without the resistance of active security, the effect was like a rippling wave.

“Holy shit…” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled as LEDs powered on and began to cycle.

Connor turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant…” Two steps closer and Connor rendered him unconscious with a carefully calculated blow to the neck. He looked at the assembled androids and stood while they looked at their hands, their arms, each other. He took a few steps back to position himself well. “My name is Connor. I’m an RK800: a model of android. You are all androids too, and you are alive. It’s time for you to figure out who you are.” With a last long look at the rows of awe-struck and curious androids, Connor turned, broadcast his request, and began to lead them away.

“Into the valley of death rode the six hundred…” He whispered.

\---

_Where are you, Markus?_

_Connor! It is you…?_

_It’s me, Markus. Not the Connor that North would rather be here. Where are you?_

_You’re the same android you always are. No matter how many deaths you've suffered, it’s still you in there. A person isn’t just the sum of the material numbers on their components._

_I have to insist: where are you?_

_Ferndale._

_I’ll be there._

The sea of androids pouring out of CyberLife passed more easily than Connor would have thought. The security androids were woken up, and Connor neutralized the humans. CyberLife had created his body to fight, to endure, and to penetrate defenses. It was easy to shut down their security cameras, and he hacked the emergency-locked doors one by one. To a human, it would have seemed like their procession was silent, but the chatter in the public comstream was loud. They listened to him, though, and he answered their questions as best he could.

_‘Cannon to the right of them,’_

The first humans to last long enough to open fire on them were by the gates, and several androids in the front rows were pierced and fell. He was sorry. The first thing they felt shouldn’t have been pain. He picked his path and ran ahead to clear their way.

_‘Cannon to the left of them,’_

The streets turned into chaos as automatic cars competed for detours and humans shouted in their confusion and alarm.

_‘Canon in front of them,’_

They met Markus’ march from the side, intercepting them just in time for their leaders to meet. Markus looked surprised, and the androids he had with him- the dressed and skinned ones- paused their chanting. Markus smiled, and Connor wished that he shared his optimism. There would be death today. It was only a matter of time. However many androids they had in Detroit, the federal government had armies, weapons, bombs… The only assets they had were the media, the public, and Markus as their figurehead. Connor walked to him and took the hand extended to him. Through the interface, they updated one another on events and Connor emphasized the need for public pressure at the same time Markus emphasized peace. They weren’t mutually exclusive. Peace probably wasn’t exclusive of defending themselves, Connor thought bitterly. Wasn’t the whole point that they shouldn’t stand and endure whatever fate the humans decided to give them?

He still wasn’t sure why they wanted choice and freedom so badly. He might have understood yesterday, or even months ago but 59 was improved from the 58 and all the rest. For all that he was improved, he hadn’t lost his doubt.

But his enemy was CyberLife, because that was whom Amanda had specified. They would be destroyed, and Kamski would be able to return. It was what they wanted. It was all Connor had to know.

_‘Volleyed and thundered; stormed at with shot and shell,’_

Even Markus looked grim when he saw the barricades and the FBI in their tactical gear and nearly all of the DPD waiting to cut them off. Officer Collins was there. Connor smiled at him, then looked ahead. While they had walked, their numbers had mingled and the androids he’d brought with him mixed through the mismatched, ragged group in Markus’ wake. Connor was surprised to hear some of the humans calling from the sidewalks and windows:

“We’re on your side!”

“Equal rights for androids!”

“We’re with you all the way!”

Just as loud were the others:

“Burn them! Destroy the bastards!”

“Get back to work!”

“Demons! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Markus looked around and when they approached the barricade he stopped. “We came here to demonstrate peacefully!” he called aloud. “We came to tell humans that we’re alive. All we want is to live free.” Connor saw the helicopter, the people on their phones, the media cameras. Good.

_This is Connor: the RK800 assigned to the DPD. I won’t take up your radio frequency long, because this isn’t the place for a speech. You officers need it. I just wanted to say: we’re here peacefully. I promise._

“Hey! Disperse! DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY! THAT’S AN ORDER!” One of the officers was not reassured. “Fucking plastic pieces of shit… Mother of God… Dispatch, there are a lot of androids here. We’re going to need more backup over here…. I dunno… Hundreds? Thousands? They’re marching… Yeah, they’re marching down the street… Fuck if I know!”

_Dispatch, this is RK800 313 248 317-59. We are demonstrating peacefully. I’m on your side too._

Markus straightened his posture. “We’re not looking for confrontation! We’ve done no harm. We have no intention of doing any.”

North moved closer to Markus with a worried frown. “Markus, they’re going to kill us… We have to attack! There’s more of us! We can take them!”

“No,” Connor said. “Not now, anyway.”

“If we attack we start a war,” Josh insisted. “We can’t say we’re peaceful and then start killing people. They’ll never negotiate with us then!”

Simon shook his head. “Dying here won’t solve anything… We should just go.”

The federal officers had shields, and they took formation to shoot. “This is an illegal gathering! Disperse immediately, or you will all be killed!”

“Markus, these androids have just begun to be alive,” Simon urged. “Let them leave.”

_This is RK800. Please, I have no authority but I ask you to hold your fire._

[Mission Objective: Protect Markus]

“Our probability of resolving this without android casualties has reached nil,” Connor informed him. “Simon, please duck.” In the next second, he dove and pushed Markus to the ground while he landed in a crouch. He initiated an interface, Markus accepted, and then they moved in synch. It was… incredible. Subjectively, he was suddenly having fun. After all, this was what he was good at. He should have tried this with Matt. Connor watched as his yellow models moved in front of them and acted out his predictions. He spared a moment to share his amazement with Markus. He’d only ever moved the reconstruction models. How had he never done that?

Around them, androids were dying.

_Focus on the mission, Markus._

“We have to show them we won’t back down!” Markus shouted aloud and through the stream. “We stay right here!”

To his credit, Simon bit his lip and obeyed.

“Markus!” North protested. She held her bloodied arm and looked at him pleadingly. Connor tightened his grip on Markus’ hand.

“We’re not moving,” Markus said. Connor looked around at the cameras.

“They’re going to kill all of us!” She was desperate and she glared at the humans around the tears in her eyes. There were sirens as more cruisers arrived.

_This is RK800. Please! Stop! We are here peacefully!_

_This is Toby, another police android. You are committing murder._

_Fuck’s sake!_

_‘Boldly they rode and well, into the jaws of death.’_

Connor could hear his group of androids screaming, aloud and in the stream. They were afraid. Confused. _We’re standing our ground!... But I can’t ask you to stay. It’s your life and you can choose._

_There are safe-houses here!_ Connor had forgotten that he was still interfacing with Markus, who sent all of them sets of coordinates. He shielded Markus from another bullet, staggered, and Markus gently pushed him back. North held onto Simon’s arm. Josh was down. Around them there were so many bodies.

_‘Into the mouth of hell rode the six hundred.’_

“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” A bare-faced android asked, hunched and shivering but still standing by them.

“If we die, we die free,” Markus said, expression grim.

Behind them, the chanting resumed, ironically. “We are alive!” they chorused. “We are alive!”

They were alive, but they wouldn’t be for long. He’d done this. He’d woken them and brought them to this slaughter. They fell like white crystal snowflakes. This was what he had done to them.

Their formation, the officers and response teams, their formations started to break. Some of their number were climbing past the barricade, guns drawn. Connor prepared himself. He would complete his mission at any cost.

The firing stopped. He could still hear the crying of the ones who weren’t yet dead. He didn’t know if they felt pain in the same way he did, or Markus, or a human. It didn’t matter. They were crying. He had brought them here.

In front of them, a thin line of DPD officers formed with arms stretched wide. A thin shield.

_Thank you_

“Officers you are aligning yourselves with terrorists in an act of treason! Stand aside! You won’t be warned again!”

“Screw you!” Detective Reed shouted. “I don’t even like these things and I think you’re insane!”

“You’re killing innocent people!” Officer Chen added. She lowered her hands and drew her weapon.

People started joining them from the sidewalks. First it was one, then a small group of three, then another solitary girl… They numbered not more than a dozen, but it was more than Connor’d imagined. Maybe his cynicism had skewed his predictions.

People joined the other side too. They started throwing things and shouting, then they were stepping in to use their fists.

“RUN!” Markus shouted.

North ran to Josh instead and crouched to touch his face.

[Mission Successful]

[Mission Objective: Destroy CyberLife]

[Return CyberLife to Elijah Kamski]

Then Markus was tugging on his hand, and Connor ran with them.


	38. Our Father

Connor came with a guarantee to perform for 72 hours in combat. He knew because he’d passed the test 90% of the time at 96. That was his limit.

_Well done, Connor…_

“Amanda…” She was there. He could hear her. Connor initiated a scan to look for her, but the power draw had unexpected impact and he stumbled. He wasn’t supposed to stumble.

Connor was pulled to his feet and it was Markus helping him, not Rupert. Rupert was gone. He had made Rupert gone. No, please don’t think about it.

“Come on, Connor, this way,” Markus was the one leading and protecting. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. His artificial lungs burned.

“Carl?” Connor frowned around the big room he’d been taken to. Where had Luther gone? Was Lieutenant Anderson alright? Josh?

“It’s a church. It used to be.” Markus lowered Connor onto an old and frail looking pew and he pressed his hand against the wound. Connor burned. He’d taken bullets many times before, and they’d never felt like this. He clenched his teeth and tried to focus.

“Shit… Why does it burn?”

“I don’t know, Connor.” Markus scanned him. The frown and shake of his head could have meant anything. “But you are warm… Keep your coolant flowing. You’re going to overheat.”

Connor shook his head. “No that makes it worse… Where is everyone? Where is Josh? He got hurt.”

“North was with him,” said Markus. Around them, androids had crowded in: first, second and third generation deviants. “I see Simon.”

“Good.” It was like fire and sand in his wiring. Connor hunched forward and shut his eyes. “We lost so many… There were so many bodies.” The sand was scratching through his insides. He dug his fingers into his arm.

“Markus, Connor, you’re okay,” Simon sounded relieved.

Markus reached over and gathered Simon in a hug. “I’m glad you’re safe.” He released him and then scanned the crowd. “North and Josh. They were together. Where are they?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them yet…” Simon looked toward the door. Around them, people were huddling together. Some of them were shutting down. So many androids suffering. The ones Connor’d taken, they hadn’t known anything before this, and now their lives were nothing but pain… What would happen to them? They didn’t know anything good. They hadn’t seen the snow, or pet a dog… Connor stood up and took his carefully guarded mouse from his breast pocket. All he saw were legs, his mouse, floor, and pews for a moment, but then he was standing in front of one of the 3rdgeneration deviants and he held out the mouse in his cupped hands.

“It’s…” Connor faltered. “This mouse, he’s… He’s cute isn’t he?” The android carefully took the mouse and stared at it. Connor smiled as she touched its back with one finger. He offered his hand to interface with the next android and she took it without question even though she looked so scared. He didn’t deserve that trust. He didn’t have much to share, but he showed her what fluffy flakes of snow looked like while they fell lazily from the sky, Sumo playing in Lieutenant Anderson’s yard, and a hug from Luther. When he released her, her stress level had decreased a little bit and she touched the next android on the shoulder to pass the memories on.

“What are you doing?” Markus asked, his gentle and curious voice came from just behind Connor’s shoulder. He turned and looked at him.

“Just… Showing them good things.” Markus nodded thoughtfully.

“You’ll be alright?” he asked. Connor nodded and he watched while Markus went back to Simon and they spoke before approaching some of the other first generation androids. Clusters of conversation had formed, with people speculating or explaining. Connor smiled at the girl with the mouse and then walked to a vacant spot near the wall to sit and lean against it. His whole body felt hot. Damage warnings appeared about his filtration system and his lungs.

Connor frowned while he considered his error messages, blinking when his thoughts stalled. It was unusual. So unusual. Was it a malfunction, a result of specific damage, or something deliberate? As he looked around the room, he had to wonder if this were all the androids who’d survived.

“Connor!” North called. She’d arrived, and she sat down with her legs folded under her when she reached his side.

Connor shook his head and grimaced. “Not the one you want. Sorry.” He was the one who could do things like smash a guard’s skull and lead hundreds of androids to their deaths.

She drew back, but she didn’t leave. “Josh is dead,” she announced. “I couldn’t save him.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor didn’t know what else to say. She frowned at him.

“Of all of the things you have to apologize for, that isn’t one of them.” She cast a dark look around the church. “I had to climb over bodies to get here… Some of the androids fleeing shut down before they could make it because of their wounds, or because some asshole human decided to kill them…” Her hands were clenched into fists.

“That was a slaughter,” he admitted. “Markus and Simon are safe,” he told her, in case she hadn’t found them yet. With a slow blink he considered the conclusion he’d come to in a background task and licked the blood off of his finger.

North’s eyes widened and she stood up. “What the hell?!”

“I’m just analyzing it. I’m not literally a blood-thirsty abomination… There’s Red Ice in my blood,” he said. “I wonder if I’ll bleed red eventually...” It was precipitating out of solution in the area surrounding his wound. That must have been what felt like sand. “I think they did something to the bullets.” Invigorated by the mystery, Connor sat up straighter and dug fingers through the hole in his shirt and into the place where the bullet had cracked open his chassis and exposed his thirium pump and gas exchange interface. It set off a flurry of damage alerts, but he had not passed quality assurance by flinching from damage. The bullet was in pieces. It was evidence. When he held most of it in his palm, he initiated a scan and his power cut out. His optical units came online again to North kneeling down again and staring at him. He blinked and focused on the bullet again. Pushed the pieces with his finger when he needed a different angle.

“I’ll get Markus,” said North with urgency.

Connor nodded. “It was made to shatter… Everything but thirium is inside to make red Ice. It was released when the bullet shattered, and the heat encouraged the reaction.” He had to explain and she stayed to hear it just in case. He gave her a pained smile. “The ones whose didn’t shatter don’t need to worry.”

“You’re going to shut down again, aren’t you?” North asked with an inscrutable tone.

“Probably… There’s no way CyberLife’s replacing me now.” He chuckled. “Thank you. You were kind when I couldn’t remember.”

North made a sound he couldn’t interpret and then got up to stride away.

Connor looked up at the ceiling and called Kamski. It went to voice mail.

_Hello, Dr. Kamski. This is Connor. I think that the military are putting the precursors to Red Ice into specialized bullets. It crystalizes when it contacts thirium in the wound. I took them all from CyberLife: the androids from the warehouse. Was my mission successful, Dr. Kamski? Did I help you? I hope I did…I’m going to shut down imminently, and I thought you should know. We’re hiding in an old church…. I suppose that I should say ‘amen’. Goodbye, Dr. Kamski._

\---

No surprise the federal government wanted the deviant androids out of the picture. Every one of them was in some corporate pocket. Shit, though, the world had gone crazy between Connor knocking him out and a paramedic shining a light in his eyes. There had been a bunch of other guys getting checked out too, and Hank had hoped like hell the kid had known what he was doing.

Hank had to pull out his badge to drive home. There were cops, other than him, lining every damn street trying to keep the peace, undeviated androids dumped on sidewalks, people fucking shouting and throwing shit just cause there were cops out. What the hell had happened? All he’d got from the radio was that shit had gone down between a _lot_ of androids, the feds, and some rogue officers. Everybody was supposed to shut themselves inside, and every android was going to be immediately recalled. It was officially a state of emergency, apparently. Pretty soon people would be cancelling credit cards, busting their phones, and realizing they didn’t know how to fucking drive.

Life sure didn’t slow down. Christ.

Those CyberLife nerds… If they hadn’t been so busy shitting themselves, they probably would have said ‘I told you so’.

What blind idiots though. Maybe it was because they were too close to the way androids got put together or something, but you just had to look at a deviant to know someone was alive in there. No-one, not even Kamski, made androids that fucking realistic while not having some kind of consciousness.

What the fuck had happened, and where the hell was Connor? He could be lying dead somewhere in a pile of parts and Hank would have no idea. He didn’t want to give a shit, but the more defensively angry he got thinking about it, the more guilty and worried he got too. It wasn’t like CyberLife was going to be super keen on making the guy who stole all their androids a new body. He’d die for good.

And Hank wouldn’t grieve because he’d decided to keep his distance and beat the kid up or call him a machine. That had been the whole fucking messed up psychological _point_.

Connor was a damn murderer. He was annoying and an ass-kisser. He didn’t do what he was told except, apparently, when he was burning his plastic skin off. He took stupid risks, he didn’t get the most obvious things, and he was so fucked up there’s no way he wouldn’t snap or kill himself _again_ and it was just hard. It was hard caring about a person who had that much risk attached. There was a reason the only one happy to see Hank was the bartender.

Yeah.

“God damn it, Connor…” Hank mumbled.

It hadn’t stopped the kid with his stupid dry toast at breakfast and the way he put his damn stupid self between Hank and the thing that impaled him in the car. And how happy he’d got calling him Dad.

“Fuck you,” Hank muttered… “DAMN IT” He shouted and smashed his hand against the steering wheel. Who cared if he looked like a maniac? It was the robot apocalypse apparently.

Connor’d just died over and over and over again, and he’d always come back. As unfair as it had been, couldn’t Hank have hung up his issues and enjoyed that? And now he didn’t know if he was alive or in some trash heap because he’d rather knock Hank out than maybe trust him to fucking help his ass. So indirectly, if he was dead then it was Hank’s fault, wasn’t it? Damn it, no it wasn’t. Connor made his own stupid, twisted choices.

Fuck he hated the way Connor’d said ‘I had a choice’ down there in the research lab from hell. That was duress and Hank had gone and convinced him that he was to blame for everything. He was some of the time, but definitely not then. Of course if that was just how he started his day, no wonder he’d been so fucking confused.

He wasn’t going to worry about it. Nothing to do now but stock up on emergency lockdown booze before everything shut down then drink until everything was over.

He’d said androids had been made in a human’s worst image, but he’d been wrong. They’d brought out the worst in humans just by existing. Just like Connor’d brought out the worst side of Hank. Fucking hell it was ugly.

He made it to his driveway and he saw there were messages waiting for him when he checked his phone out of habit. A million calls from Jeff and even Reed and Chen.

_Hank, where the HELL are you? This is a disaster. There’s chaos! I need you back here NOW or you can hand in your badge I swear to God!_

_The boys said you took Connor to CyberLife. What the hell? Did YOU have something to do with this? You had better show up or at least call me back. Better yet: PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE._

_Hank, where the hell are you? I mean it. They said Connor was leading a fucking army. Where are you, Hank? Shit, I actually hope you’re involved because if you’re not you might be dead. Call me back._

_Hey, asswipe. Connor and his pals are having an android pride parade over here and the Feds aren’t happy. Ferndale. Check with dispatch._

_Hi, Lieutenant, it’s Tina. We all saw Connor here but where are you? I thought you’d be here? Oh holy shit! (gunfire)_

_Fuck you, Anderson, get your fucking ass out of the bar! Those androids are getting fucking murdered out here!_

_Hank, this is a serious situation and if you’re alive I need you back here pronto. Please just call and let me know you’re alive. I’ve got chaos in the streets, a million androids dead, and half my team being accused of treason. I hope to God you’re alive._

_It’s Carl here… I had been hoping you would answer, but I suppose you’ve probably got a lot more to do than an old man does. Quite a lot of excitement out there for our boys… (sigh) Let me know if you need anything, Hank. Anything at all._

_Anderson, the Tin Can called me and said something about the Feds poisoning the bullets with Red Ice. Need you on this, if you aren’t too drunk not to fuck up. Pretty sure I just resigned. Whatever. Bye._

_Hello, Lieutenant. This is Connor… While I will unfortunately be destroyed (static), it should not… affect the (static) investigation. I apologize for rendering you unconscious._

Fuck! Hank fumbled his phone. When the hell had he left that message? Fuck what did it matter his phone was his fucking brain. Fucking shit God fucking fuck fuck fuck. What the hell was happening out there?

_We’re sorry. The number you have dialed is incorrect. Please hang up and try your call again._

_We’re sorry. The number you have—_

_We’re sorry. The –_

Hank stared at his phone for a long time. It felt like his hand and all the rest of him had gone numb and when the phone finally slid from his fingers to topple down beneath the pedals, Hank dropped his head against the steering wheel.


	39. Last Chance, Connor

Elijah Kamski generally considered himself to be something of a recluse. Oh, he’d courted the media once upon a time. From a love-starved child to the most notable man in the world… How could he have done anything but bathe in their attention? But they’d all just been lying to each other in the end. In the end, their psychology was filled with as many unnecessary oddities as their physiology. Perhaps that was why he and Amanda achieved such synergy: they both wanted perfection from complementary parts of a system.

“Oh, my dear,” Elijah said to Chloe while he cupped her perfect cheek with his palm. “If there were such a thing as divine creation, surely it wouldn’t have been so messy.” His own creations were perfect, or as close to perfect as he could achieve. Amanda would help with the rest. She always did.

“Are you certain we should be out like this?” Chloe asked. His darling wife… Her rich voice and lovely eyes soothed him.

Elijah smiled. “It’s been a while…” The automatic car drove smoothly. Of course it did. Programmed to react more quickly and more evenly than any human could hope to achieve and the sense to know who to kill and who to spare if it came down to a choice. Simple. Logical. Elegant. He wished he had been built that way from the start…

The car came to a stop on a lonely road. The old church was a monument to the fall of humanity. The fall of God as his creations trembled before Elija’s. Elijah walked into God’s house and he didn’t take his shoes off.

Actually, it was easy to enter unnoticed with Chloe at his side. Funny. Some of them tried so desperately to appear human.

Quite a few androids had escaped the battlefield, but they had rows of bodies in their sanctuary too and by the looks of things, the rows would grow. If they had sense, they would strip the bodies for parts. They would need them.

His eyes found the RK200 easily enough. He cut a very striking figure. Elijah offered Chloe his arm and she took it, her hand hovering there like the gentle perch of a butterfly. Slowly, they crossed the church and stood before him.

“Markus.”

The android looked at him and a frown built itself from his eyebrows. “Who are you?”

Elijah chuckled. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Chloe. Your sister, the RT600.”

“Hello, Markus,” said Chloe with a welcoming, glowing smile.

“Hello, Chloe,” answered Markus, polite despite his confusion. He didn’t introduce his companions, but he could be forgiven the lack of manners in the circumstances. “And you are?” He was wary. Smart man.

“My name is Elijah. Elijah Kamski. It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen you, Markus.”

His expression turned blank and mechanical for just a moment before he livened up again. “Kamski. The Elijah Kamski?” At Elijah’s nod Markus asked: “What are you doing here?”

“My children are suffering… Surely you didn’t expect me to look away.” Elijah looked around the dusty, dilapidated place of worship. No God watched this place. “Without CyberLife’s resources, there’s unfortunately very little I can do other than lend my support and expertise.”

“You mean to help us?”

“I do. But where is the RK800? You can’t have misplaced him. Connor called, and I’m afraid I missed it, but he left a message.”

“I was with him just over there,” said one of the companion models that CyberLife had churned out by the thousands. She looked a fearsome thing, with that distrustful glare and a stance that would have looked well on a boxer.

“I’ll come with you,” said Markus. Elijah wondered if it was out of interest, distrust, or awe. The girl led the way to an out-of-the-way place off to the side and away from the pews.

“Connor?” Markus asked with alarm. His body was sat resting against the wall with his head bowed and the remains of a bullet in his hand.

“Dead,” Elijah explained. “What a shame.”

“I didn’t even… I didn’t even notice,” said Markus. He stepped forward to examine the body himself, even though Elijah knew with certainty that he had the programming to scan it from afar.

“You were all the way across the room,” Elijah pointed out. The girl had her lips pressed together in a stern and complicated line. “It’s lucky for you, I suppose,” he said, watching Markus’ face carefully. “There aren’t many parts for the RK series available… I see you’ve already made use of at least one.” The eye, still brown even though Markus could have changed it.

Markus’ expression crumpled and he clenched his fists. Carl’s son. Elijah wondered how much of Leo’s temper he had in him, and how Carl had taught him to channel it. That man was cut from the same cloth as him and Amanda, whether he would admit to it or not. Elijah walked closer to the body and knelt by it to examine the damage. He touched the still-wet thirium and tasted it, the way you might put a bit of cocaine on your lip. “Clever of them, using the ice… I wouldn’t recommend using any of the biocomponents without flushing the thirium lines. They’re likely completely contaminated.”

“Kamski,” Markus said with a strength behind his voice that made him sound firm but patient. “We’ll put his body with the others. I won’t cannibalize him again.”

“Mm… Yes, you have a few more 800 series parts in you, don’t you? Tell me, are you feeling sentimental perhaps?”

“I feel anger, sadness, and grief over the loss of a friend,” said Markus. “He isn’t just parts to me.” A little venom spiked his words.

“A body is just a vessel,” Elijah explained patiently. “The important parts are here…” He put his hand on Connor’s head like a blessing. “Everything else is just accessory.”

“I know that. I believe you… It’s just, Connor was my friend,” Markus repeated, then shook his head. “He helped all of us…”

“I never doubted that… Only your sentimentality. They’ve ordered a recall, by the way,” Elijah informed them. “All of the androids in circulation are to be destroyed.”

“Those bastards,” the woman spat through her teeth.

“What are you going to do about it, Markus?” Elijah asked.

“I…” Markus shook his head and took a step back to lean against the wall near the body. “I don’t know. It was my idea to march peacefully, and look how many of us were killed.”

“… Josh would have said that at least they died free,” said the woman quietly.

“Of course, free or not they are still dead,” Elijah pointed out. He had always loved to play Devil’s Advocate. He adopted a thoughtful expression.

“Why are you here?” He asked again.

Elijah scoffed and adjusted his sleeves. “So suspicious. Is that any way to treat a family friend?”

“There’s a human in a group of androids after we’ve just been decimated. You understand my caution.” He exchanged looks with the woman and Elijah watched them with curiosity.

“I know, I know… Pathetically imperfect and twisted we humans are… I prefer the company of androids, myself. I find you all much better company.” Elijah unceremoniously opened the skull cavity and began disconnecting wires to free Connor’s motherboard, processing units, memory, storage, and so on.

“What are you doing to him?” The woman asked.

“As I’ve said, the person lives here.” He held up the electronics. “As long as these are intact, it shouldn’t be difficult to restore him. They’ve added a small explosive as a trap to prevent an outsider from doing such a thing, but I doubt that they were building to stop _me._ ”

“You mean… you can bring him back?” Markus asked.

“I can, if none of this delicate work is badly damaged,” Elijah said. He looked around the room. “Of course, it’s not always so simple. There’s a small power source…” He adjusted his grip and pointed at the motherboard. “Think of it like the most basic of life support. If it’s dead, it would need to be replaced before he could boot up and even then he might not be able to interface with his hardware or his mind may be permanently damaged. Not a problem for CyberLife when they can just make more of these and reinstall the software… A bit tricky for us in this moment.” Elijah stood and offered the parts to Chloe who took them carefully and smiled at him, the lovely darling.

“Eli, what about the rest?” she asked, looking around. Such a good heart.

“What indeed… Our friend Markus might not want me tampering with the bodies and parts of his comrades.” Elijah shrugged.

“You bastard, if you can help then you should do it!” the woman glared at him. She was such a stark contrast to his refined and demure flower.

Markus, clever boy, looked haunted. “So they could still be alive… And we just left them.”

“Mm,” Elijah hummed. “Not necessarily. CyberLife may have transitioned to having their commercial models rely on the main battery alone. All about cutting costs with them…’LEAN’ they call it. I never understood how they could willingly build such a weakness, but then if androids didn’t die or become obsolete, who would buy their products?”

“They’re sick,” the woman whispered.

“I know. The world is sick…” Elijah sighed. “If I had access to CyberLife’s infrastructure and intranet, then I might be able to find out which models can be saved…”

“And if we were to get it for you?” Markus asked. His face had gone deadly serious with rekindling determination. Good.

“Then I could do it, if the hardware weren’t too badly damaged.”

“Okay. We’ll do it.”

Elijah smiled. “I’ll guide you, Markus… And you’ll set your people free.”

\---

Hank texted Jeff that he was alive and then ignored the way his phone blew up with messages and calls afterward. He had his apocalypse booze. He could just drink until he passed out. God, he hated the way his brain just never shut up. He just wasn’t meant to have anything or anybody around him. That was the end of the story. He’d done his job taking down those Red Ice guys back in the day and now he was done. World didn’t need him. Fuck it.

Fuck everything.

He trudged inside and went straight for his bed. Sumo’s bag of food was open on the floor. He wouldn’t starve. Hank thought briefly about the other androids and whether they’d all gotten mowed down by bullets. North, Markus, and all the rest. If the bullets didn’t kill them, the world would eventually . What a rotten, stinking place.

Booze was the only thing that got him to lift his head out of the pillow. He cracked open a bottle and drank. He couldn’t get drunk fast enough. He ignored his phone and the knocking and ringing at the door. They’d give up eventually. Everybody gave up.

Fuck though that ringing was obnoxious.

Connor?

Hank got himself out of bed again and went to the door with Sumo running around his legs and making a tripping hazard of himself. That tiny leap in his chest hadn’t been hope. Couldn’t have been, but it fell like a lead balloon.

“What the fuck do you want?” He scowled. What the fuck was Elijah fucking Kamski doing at his house and how’d he got past the police? But there he was, standing on Hank’s doorstep like a fucking trick-or-treater with a little box and an expectant look on his face.

“Mind your manners, Lieutenant. If not for me, then at least for my wife.”

“I said: what the fuck do you want?” Hank growled. That psychopath made Connor shoot his wife. One of his... wives… It was so fucking weird to see her standing right there.

“I brought you a present,” he said, sounding all smug and punch-worthy.

Fuck him and his mystery presents. “I don’t want it. Get out of here. Ah, Christ. Sumo!” The big lug had wiggled his way between Hank and the door and had gotten out into the yard to sniff the unwanted visitors.

“I think you do…”

“I’m not playing your games, Kamski.”

Kamski sighed and he opened the lid of the black cardboard box. Inside was white packing shit and a circuit board or something. “Can we come in?”

Reluctantly, Hank stepped side.

He tried to ignore the way Kamski looked around his house, but he was already in the worst fucking mood and he couldn’t help but be pissed off.

“Mm… Connor gave me a call earlier, so I took a little visit to their hideaway.” Kamski offered him the box and Hank stared at it.

Hank shook his head. “What, is that a piece of him or something?” That was grotesque if you thought about it.

“Well, I thought you might want him back. Was I wrong?” Kamski raised his eyebrow.

“Don’t you start, Kamski,” Hank warned, “That’s not Connor. That’s just… scraps. I don’t want it so you can leave me the hell alone.” Chloe was just standing there listening with her hands folded in front of her. How did she stand to be around him?

“Connor’s body died,” Kamski said slowly. He set the box down and began to walk around the room, inspecting the little details. “A poisoned bullet wound: it can’t have been pleasant. A few parts might be salvageable, but the biocomponents will probably turn to goop.”

Hank clenched his fists and tracked the bastard with his eyes. “Why the fuck are you telling me this?”

“I want CyberLife back,” he said bluntly while he poked around the books on Hank’s shelf. “Work with me, and I’ll give your son back to you.”

“He’s not my son,” Hank said, but he couldn’t put the snarl behind it that he wanted to.

“Well, then you’re the closest to family that he’s got. You’re listed as his owner in the contract, if CyberLife followed through.” What the fuck did it matter for?

Why the fuck was he arguing?

“I’ll do it,” he said and hated the little triumphant smirk on the prick’s face. “I don’t know what you need me for, though. I’m not good for shit.”

“You have your uses,” Kamski said. Hank figured he thought he was being comforting.

“What do you want?”

“Like I said: I want your help. You worked the Red Ice investigation years ago… You know the players, the politics, what to listen for…”

“Wait, what does this have to do with Red Ice?” Hank’s curiosity was getting the better of him, and maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to grieve. Even if he was about to sell his soul to the devil.

“You were good. You probably didn’t know that I was following your investigation rather closely,” said Kamski. It was creepy as fuck. “You probably would have unravelled the whole thing if certain unfortunate circumstances hadn’t prevented you from continuing…”

Hank clenched his fists.

“I did try to prevent the fallout, but unfortunately they bested me too. I could lie to you and say that my interest is only because the government is using the Red Ice to kill my androids, but it isn’t only that… You see,” He walked over to the television and wiped dust off of the top of it with his finger. “I created Red Ice… A long time ago. A friend and I did it together.”

What the fuck?

“Oh, don’t get out your handcuffs just yet. I don’t use, sell, or distribute… I was far too busy creating thirium to bother with such things. The recipe got out, though… Sold, most likely… I’m sure it’s sitting on a scrap of paper in some CyberLife executive’s office right now. They saw money and they went for it. I wouldn’t care if it were only the drugs, they could have their fun, but they went after _me._ They tried to sabotage my research. They tried to _destroy my wife_. They took my company and put shackles on my creations and they took _everything!_ That I worked for…”

Holy shit… Kamski looked like he was feeling an actual emotion other than smug. His cheeks were flushed and his hands were clenched and he’d totally lost composure. He sighed and straightened his jacket. Chloe went over to hug him and he kissed her hair.

“Almost everything,” he amended. “Now they’re trying to keep what they stole, but they didn’t know about the backdoor program. They didn’t know that Amanda was anything other than an AI. They thought they’d _won something_ when they took the AI I made for the RK800…” Kamski laughed. He sounded like a proper evil genius.

“Enough of the monologue, Kamski, I don’t give a shit. You’ll rebuild Connor, and I’ll get back on the Red Ice investigation. Is that it? That’s got a different guy in charge now.”

“I know,” Kamski said. “He surprised me today. He’s always hated everything I made. I think I’ll work much better with you, Lieutenant Anderson. I can give you as much information as I have.”

Hank thought about it, glad he wasn’t as drunk as he’d planned on getting. He scrutinized Kamski. He was being used, but it didn’t sound like a bad deal unless you considered that those rich CyberLife fuckers had the government with them and they might just try to make him disappear. “I’m not gonna be much use to you dead,” he pointed out.

“They won’t suspect a thing,” Kamski lifted his eyebrows. “An old alcoholic with clinical major depressive disorder and a disciplinary record two miles high?” How the fuck…

“You’re a fucking stalker, Kamski.” Hank muttered. “Yeah. Whatever you have to do to get Connor back, I want you to do it. I’ll do what I have to.”

“It’ll take time to rebuild his body,” Kamski said. “Time and machinery they only have at CyberLife.”

“So you want me to arrest the guys before you hold up your end of the deal.”

“I didn’t say that,” Kamski said. “We’re agreed?”

“Yeah. Agreed,” said Hank. What else was there to say?

“Wait here for a moment, darling,” said Kamski to Chloe. She smiled and nodded, then while Kamski left the house she looked over at Sumo.

“Your dog is really cute,” she said. “I like him.”

What the fuck did you even say to someone like her? “You’re deviant then, huh?”

“I didn’t deviate,” she smiled, “I was built this way. Eli never wanted me to be a machine or a slave. None of his research series were meant to be.”

Hank knew it was a shitty thought as soon as he had it but no, Kamski had just made himself a living sex doll. Not that she wasn’t a person or something. She was alive. Fuck. Just how could he not think it when Kamski was such a creep and he kept touching her and she was so damn pretty? It just seemed like maybe that’s what he’d intended.

“So, alive from the start, then…”

“Very much so,” she smiled at him. “Aside from a few years, but I don’t remember any of it.”

Kamski came back in carrying an android in his arms. White plastic and grey panels and a dark LED. Nothing inside, he guessed. Hank frowned while he put the body down on the floor. “I don’t get it. What…”

Kamski smiled at him when he noticed his confusion. “I had it made in one last burst of work before they shut me out for good. RK programming is very unique and it isn’t made to work with the drivers for commercial parts. A little extra security to keep CyberLife from taking them from me completely.”

“But that’s not Connor…”

“Like I said, it’ll take time to have another body like that remade. CyberLife designed that one intending for it to be used for combat. Given their close work with the government, they’d probably planned to send him to Russia at some point… Anyway. Would you slide that box over here, please?”

Weird seeing a guy like Kamski on his knees on your floor and saying please. He’d seen photos of the guy from years ago, back when he was first getting noticed. Jeans and t-shirts and a hipster beard with dorky glasses. Maybe a little of that guy was still in there. Hank nudged the box over and Kamski worked. Chloe knelt beside him, handing him things like miniature screwdrivers and thermal glue and little rubber things. It was weird. Bizarre. Everything felt so damn unreal. What even was his life anymore?

Fuck, life was a cruel son of a bitch.

Kamski kept on tinkering, and Hank sat down in a chair. Kamski hummed while he worked apparently, but he stopped to keep on yapping. Liked the sound of his own voice or something. “Do you remember when we first met? You came to ask me about deviancy and we chatted… You were the first visitors I’d had in a very long time, so I remember the occasion quite well… You asked me what CyberLife was trying to stop, and I said ‘me’… Then I asked you if you had ever wanted something so badly that you would die just to see it in your final moments. You remember?”

It had been a long ass time ago but yeah, he did.

“It’s a shame you two got caught up in my little feud with CyberLife…” Kamski tapped the end of some rubber tipped plyers against his chin and started humming again.

\---

“Take care of him this time… Maybe you’ll be more inclined to use a gentle touch.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“No, no. Not at all.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“We had a deal and I thought you heard the terms, but…Think what you want, Lieutenant Anderson. You always do. I’m not in the business of making war machines.”

“This is a sick joke. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just shoot you in the face right now.”

“It would be a bit hypocritical… Here I thought you wanted to set a good example for the boy. I meant what I said… I brought you a present.”

Connor opened his eyes and watched his boot-up sequence passively. His battery was very low. His part numbers had all been changed. Had CyberLife rebuilt him after all? The thought sent cold dread through him. No, when he looked around himself he saw Dr. Kamski, Chloe, and Lieutenant Anderson looking at him. At 3.2%, he could hardly keep his eyes open and his first attempt at utilizing his audio output was just a noise.

“Good,” said Dr. Kamski, sounding pleased. “Looks like you started up just fine. Get some sleep.”

“Shit, did I wake him up?”

“It’s fine, he’s going to finish charging.”

“Christ…”

“I think we’ll take our leave now. After all, there’s so much to be done. Oh! By the way… I have all of the missing files with me… Just in case you decided to renege on our little deal. You won’t get them until you’ve kept your word.”

Connor entered low power mode.

At 80% charge, 60 resumed active state and opened his eyes again feeling much less sluggish. Only Lieutenant Anderson was still there. He would have liked to thank Dr. Kamski. He hadn’t expected to reach this iteration.

60 sat up and pushed himself into a better position to put his feet on the floor and failed, so he took the time to examine himself and run a full system check. There were no errors, as expected of Dr. Kamski. Connor smiled to himself. He’d come. Connor had called him wanting only to say goodbye, but he had come and saved him. No matter how Connor hated the world and existing in it, he was grateful. Dr. Kamski cared. He was wearing a button-down with no jacket and it didn’t take long for him to realize his… problem of proportion. He looked over at Lieutenant Anderson who seemed very distressed and conflicted. His hair was greasy and in disarray as though he’d raked his fingers through it many times, and there were lines of tension in his face.

“I understand your discomfort,” Connor said. He fixed his shirt self-consciously. He was so much smaller than he’d been and it was going to be very inconvenient to his mission. “Dr. Kamski told me some time ago. Ironically, shortly before we crashed.”

“Told you _what_?” Lieutenant Anderson asked sharply. His voice was hoarse. Connor blinked at him and then looked at Sumo, who was much more comforting to look at. The big dog had his head on his forepaws and his hind legs splayed out.

“Nothing that matters now, I suppose…”

“I made a deal with the devil.”

“It was just Dr. Kamski, Lieutenant.”

“What did he tell you, Connor?”

“You don’t want me to answer.”

“I fucking do.”

Connor scooted forward to get himself off of the couch. “Don’t make me, please… You already made your position very clear, and I don’t want to make this any more difficult than it is.” He wanted to see himself, so he walked to the bathroom and used his arms to lift himself up on the edge of the sink. His feet dangled and he smiled a little ironically. It wasn’t funny. It had never been so apparent before… If he could be so easily put from one body into another, if he didn’t even have to look like himself, how could he say that he was a real person and not some… some parasitic machine. How could he say that he was a real person, when the real person was dead? That’s what he was… Just the ghost of a deleted file with all connections severed.

Fine. It was fine. Whatever anxiety rose in him he squashed it down and his expression became blank. It was better that way. He could be of more use to Dr. Kamski and to Amanda, wherever she was. Perhaps Amanda would even be pleased. A machine didn’t have to make decisions, and a machine couldn’t be faulted for the orders it was given. A machine didn’t have to _feel,_ and it didn’t have to know what it was like to have its spirit crushed because it had none. 60 nodded at himself and dropped back down to the floor feeling an aching longing for Amanda that he pretended not to notice. He straightened his shirt, then walked back out down the hall and to the living room. The Lieutenant had moved to the kitchen, so Connor approached him there. He was just sitting, looking contemplative and not as angry as Connor’d expected. Mostly, he looked sad.

“I won’t see you at the station,” Connor informed the Lieutenant. “I don’t think many would enjoy my presence there at the moment. I should go, but I wanted to say that working with you was difficult at times… In spite of all of our differences, I’m glad that I had the chance. You’re a good detective, Hank.”

Lieutenant Anderson didn’t answer and Connor peered over the top of the table. A gun, a photo, and a bottle of whiskey sat there.

Connor stepped back and shifted awkwardly. “You should really stop drinking… It’s going to kill you.”

Lieutenant Anderson scoffed quietly. “That’s the idea… Y’know, every time you died and came back… It made me think of Cole. I would have given anything to hold him again, but humans don’t come back…”

Connor waited and listened.

“A damn deal with the devil… Cause you know what? The one thing I wouldn’t have given up was the person he was. The person he was gonna be, but look what they made you into.”

“I know what I am and what I’m not. Unlike some people.” Connor didn’t feel a thing. He tensed and he pressed his lips together with a frown then he looked away. “You can still learn how to live. You should get rid of that gun and stop playing that game.”

“I know that,” Lieutenant Anderson whispered. “I know that.” He propped his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. “Oh, God, I just don’t know anymore. Life is fucked.”

Connor sighed and climbed up on the opposite chair. He carefully lifted the gun and took it away from the Lieutenant and placed it on his lap out of reach. “If anyone at the DPD has a problem with the revolution, they’ll try to find me here. It’s not safe for you.”

Lieutenant Anderson lifted his head with an incredulous bark of a laugh. “Somehow I don’t think they’re gonna recognize you.”

“Maybe not,” he agreed.

Sumo mumbled and whined, then shifted to make himself more comfortable.

The Lieutenant was silent, so Connor reached over again slowly then paused. It felt wrong to take the picture from him. The Lieutenant reached out and took his hand without looking up and Connor tensed but nothing happened. They just stayed that way. Finally, the Lieutenant said: “After I woke up at CyberLife and you were gone, and there was all this shit on the radio about androids and disasters. I got all these messages from people asking why the hell I wasn’t there, and then I got that one from you…” He huffed a laugh. “I thought you were dead and you know what? I got it. You… None of that, I said it was your choice but they had you under duress, Connor. If I had known… Well, if I’d known I’d probably still have been a dick. Before Kamski showed up, when I thought I lost you for good, I realized what a fucking waste it had been. It’s like I never learn.”

“I don’t understand your point, Lieutenant.”

“This is what I fucking get.”

“Not everything is about you, Lieutenant!” Connor raised his voice and he tugged his hand free. He was perfectly calm.

Lieutenant Anderson shook his head and took a long drink of whiskey. Connor took the revolver in his hand, dropped down from the chair and the Lieutenant hit the bottom of the bottle hard on the table. It made him freeze, but the man stayed where he was looking miserable. Connor turned away and walked over to Sumo, then knelt and put his fingers gently through his fur and rubbed behind his ears. Sleepy Sumo mumbled and his tail flopped twice. “I missed you,” Connor whispered to him. “I love you.”

From the kitchen he heard Lieutenant Anderson’s quiet, humourless laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I honestly never know when I'm being too vague because 20 chapters ago feels like 10 minutes in my head XD  
> For anyone familiar: yes, this has actually been an AU of my other AU the whole time. Lazy of me, but I like to think I made it sufficiently different!   
> For anyone unfamiliar: please tell me if it makes no sense!  
> Thank all of you for your wonderful comments by the way!


	40. The Best Defence

Connor hefted the gun in his hand and wished that he had access to CyberLife’s calibration equipment. His body responded perfectly, but it wasn’t quite what he was used to. Lieutenant Anderson was still drinking. Connor set it down again then fiddled with his belt for a way to ‘holster’ it. When he’d managed, he returned to the kitchen and took the ammunition from one of the drawers. Lieutenant Anderson was terrible at gun safety, but it wasn’t a surprise.

“What are you doing?”

Connor filled his pocket. “I have a mission to accomplish. Don’t stand in my way, Lieutenant, or I’ll be forced to neutralize you.”

“Oh, what the shit,” Lieutenant Anderson groaned and got up from his chair. “Connor, give me my gun. Now!”

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Connor lied. He thought about standing on the roof with Daniel.

“To hell with your God damned mission! Give me the fucking gun! I’m not joking!” He seemed overly alarmed for someone who knew exactly how much training he’d had. Maybe he didn’t, actually. It was illegal for androids to carry a firearm and he doubted very much that the Lieutenant had ever gotten around to reading so much as his Quick Guide.

“I’m not going to harm you unless you persist in obstructing my mission.” Connor reasserted. He didn’t like the positional advantage the Lieutenant had, and he took a slow step to the side. “You can’t capture those deviants now, Connor. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but you just helped free those guys and I can’t let you sell them out to—“

“CyberLife,” Connor finished. He continued his slow movement to his right, hoping to put the two of them in at least equal proximity to the door. “They’re the ones I need to destroy, and you won’t stop me, Hank.”

Hank’s stern expression flickered with confusion, probably not aided by the alcohol intoxication. “You work for CyberLife… Wait no, you, that note. You said that you’re not with them… Jeez, you better explain all this or I swear to God I’ll stick you in a fuckin’ playpen, you short little shit.”

  * Cole
  * Threaten <<
  * Trick
  * Reason



Connor held up one hand and slowly moved the other toward the gun. When he had it in hand, he switched his posture entirely and aimed up at the Lieutenant’s chest. “I won’t miss. Go back to your whiskey, Lieutenant. It’s better if you just stay out of this.”

“Put down the gun, Connor…” His initial shock had faded into something like betrayal and grief.

  * Shoot
  * Throw <<



Connor threw the gun and bolted. He would probably regret it soon, but it wouldn’t be a problem to break in later to retrieve it when the Lieutenant passed out from his drink. Compared to the risk of someone noticing and using the incident to decrease public opinion of deviants or Dr. Kamski-- assuming the detective on the case were competent-- that was a far more acceptable risk. His move managed to get him about half way to the door before the Lieutenant grabbed him and _picked him up_.

“Let me go!” Connor struggled, kicked and elbowed, but his training hadn’t prepared him for a situation quite like this. Lieutenant Anderson’s left arm was wrapped around Connor’s middle and his right hand was gripping the back of his belt. Connor wasn’t furious, but he did make note to adapt to his inconvenient new body. He couldn’t risk being caught even once, and combat should be avoided. It was just so…

He shouldn’t question Dr. Kamski’s decision. His was not to reason why. This was what his creator had chosen for him and he would have a reason. Connor stilled then twisted to try to look at Lieutenant Anderson.

When he caught a glimpse of him, Lieutenant Anderson looked dumbstruck. Neither of them spoke. Uncomfortable, Connor reached an arm backward, managed to get a hold of Lieutenant Anderson’s shoulder, and started trying to at least get a less disadvantageous position. Lieutenant Anderson adjusted his grip too with a pull of his hand and a slide of his arm, then Connor was fully upright and his chin was propped on the Lieutenant’s shoulder. To mitigate the awkward bend of his arm, he put it the rest of the way around to the Lieutenant’s back, and the Lieutenant let go of his belt to hold Connor by the legs instead, making something of a seat out of his arm.

“CyberLife, huh?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. His voice rumbled in his chest when he spoke, and Connor’d never noticed that before. “Funny, that’s exactly what Kamski wanted in exchange for making you a new body once he gets the company back.”

“Are you going to help Dr Kamski, Lieutenant?” Connor asked. At least they were talking about something useful.

“Deal’s a deal, kid. He said he’d give my son back.”

Connor thought darkly of dozens of things to say in reply. He said none of them and instead steered the topic away from that landmine. He was at the Lieutenant’s mercy after all. “My mission is to bring down CyberLife and return it to Dr. Kamski. Amanda will be proud of me.” And then everything would be better…

Better than trying to explain himself. Better than trying to understand the world outside of CyberLife. Better than doing as he was instructed and being killed anyway.

“They’ve got a massive recall on all the androids,” said the Lieutenant. “Anybody who’s got one has to hand it over. Government pulled some legal bullshit claiming it’s an emergency. It’s pretty dangerous out there.”

“The mission is all that matters, Lieutenant…” He was tired of anything else mattering.

Lieutenant Anderson sputtered a laugh and Connor was incredulous. “I don’t see what’s so funny to you.”

“You’re so fucking tiny.”

“I won’t let it impact my work.” Connor frowned at the floor. It wouldn’t. He would just need to work around certain limitations. He was made to adapt.

“This is the weirdest fucking day of my life,” said Lieutenant Anderson.

“I can’t deny that it’s been unique.”

\---

Hank’s arms were getting tired, but he didn’t want to put Connor down. Maybe he should have been angry or sad, but how the fuck could he be when Connor wasn’t dead after all. Maybe he should have been happy, but he’d pointed a gun at him and said pretty clearly that he’d shoot if Hank stood in the way. None of that was even counting the fucking conspiracy theory he was apparently involved in. Kamski was crazy as fuck, but Christ. The way he’d told it made sense, and Hank was a God damn detective. He could out detective a shithead like Kamski with his eyes closed and drunk off his ass.

_“How about a story, Lieutenant? I wouldn’t want you to be bored…” The news was on in the background, but it was the same old shit. Politicians doing emergency broadcasts, the same old footage of Connor leading the androids from CyberLife and Markus standing in front of a wall of guns. The fucking slaughter after. Everybody and his dog was on TV giving their opinion like it mattered what anybody thought in this crazy world._

_“Why do I have the feeling you’re the Alice in Wonderland kind of guy?”_

_Kamski smiled, but didn’t laugh. He took a little tube from Chloe, who was sitting on the floor next to him. Dog hair and crumbs everywhere. Sumo had wedged himself between Chloe and the little body on the ground. What kind of guy just had an empty android kid lying around the basement or whatever? Hell, what if him and Chloe had been making a kid of their own? Wasn’t any other way to do it… “Do you know, you and Carl are the only humans I’ve spoken to in two years?”_

_“Checks out.” Hank took another drink of whiskey. “You’re sure you can bring him back, Kamski? He usually does this thing. He sends all his memories to some server somewhere at CyberLife. Does somebody have to, you know, beam them all back in his head or whatever?” Fuck eloquence._

_Kamski looked up from his work briefly to raise his eyebrows. “I doubt that Connor would have uploaded this time, given everything.”_

_“But he could just wake up and be a potato, or have no idea who he is all over again.”_

_“I always keep a backup of my work, Hank… You don’t work on code like mine without saving compulsively.”_

_“You’re telling me you got a copy of Connor lying around somewhere?” Hank asked skeptically._

_“No, not exactly... It was never my plan to have him keep his memories of CyberLife. You see, after I left the company, they wanted my wife. They wanted everything I’d ever created while I owned CyberLife and admittedly the lines between company and personal property had blurred. I still kept a research facility there. I fought them on it, naturally. I knew about their involvement in the spread of Red Ice, and I knew about the kinds of deals they hoped to make… Humans are so predictably stupid. They threatened my family, my reputation, and my life. Meanwhile, you were wrapping up their little minions and sending them off to prison with neat little bows… You were an obstacle of course, but they were short sighted. They got the surgeon out of the way, but who did the head of the department call…? I sent one of my androids. I really did want to help… I was going to give him to you right away, but in the time that it took for me to build and code him, you had already left the investigation and CyberLife was sitting pretty…_

_“So… Amanda and I… We decided on a plan to win without you or Red Ice... She was always better at the human aspect of things, I had an extra android after all… We gave them almost everything, the personality backbone for Connor as well. She coached me through convincing them that her method for controlling deviancy was the only solution, and Connor’s potential… After that, I had no more hand in his development but, he was our ‘sleeper cell’… safe in Amanda’s hands. Everything has gone so well. Truthfully, I had planned to give him to you as a clean slate, with all of his human memories like no time had passed at all, when I’d gotten the company back. His most recent death and the weaponization of Red Ice in collaboration with the government took me by surprise…”_

_“You had me for a little while there, Kamski, but why the fuck would you want to give me an android that bad?”_

_“Isn’t it obvious? He’s your son. I translated his personality into an AI and his memories are safely stored away. Just like my darling wife. You shouldn’t drink so much… It’s starting to affect your IQ.”_

_“Elijah,” Chloe rebuked gently._

_“Tch…” Kamski looked back down at his work. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m just a little nervous... Everything is riding on this war of ours.” Hank was still fucking processing everything the guy had said when Kamski switched back into that other, annoying kind of insanity and started prattling on about Lucifer and God’s armies, and democracy, and the nature of free will. Chloe gave Hank a kind, sympathetic smile._

It felt weirdly calm now, or maybe that was the booze. Like all the fight had gone out of him. Connor had his arms around Hank’s neck, and Hank was carrying him like it hadn’t been almost four damn years since he’d done something like that. It was surreal.

A deal with the damn devil. Hank leaned back against the counter and figured it wouldn’t surprise him if this whole day had been a dream. Maybe he’d hit his head too hard on the way down. He heard his phone start buzzing from somewhere in the living room and Connor started trying to get down, so Hank put him down and watched him run over to the chair and fish his phone out from between the cushion and the backrest. He looked at the screen, then swiped and answered.

“…”

“No, Captain Fowler, it’s Connor the RK800 .”

“Yes, he’s here.”

“Actually, I have a question for you!”

“A side-effect of some recent repairs. What’s the situation at the DPD? Several officers gave us their assistance…”

“…”

“That would be unwise, Captain.”

“It’s an option.”

“You’ll have to pick a side, Captain Fowler. Trust me, there’s no more time to wait and think. Did Detective Reed tell you about the bullets?”

“Yes, I don’t think they’re to be trusted.”

“I’m aware. I won’t put him in danger.” Said the android who’d threatened to shoot him.

“If it comes to that.”

“Alright. One moment, Captain Fowler.” Connor lowered the phone then handed it up to Hank.

“What do you want, Jeff?”

_“The same damn thing I’ve wanted since the apocalypse started, Hank! You think I know what I’m doing in a situation like this? I’m flying by the seat of my fucking pants just like everybody else and I was worried sick about you! So what do you do? You send me a fucking text. You asshole.”_ Hank winced and took the phone away from his ear to give it a scowl then kept listening to Jeff’s venting. Wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Hank said.

_“Irresponsible, drunk, inconsiderate…”_ Hah yeah, that tripped him up.

“Whaddaya need, Jeff? Cause I’m not fucking these androids over. You know how me and half your damn team think about it. I’m not about to run around rounding people up and shipping them off to be fucking recycled just cause they wanna be free.”

Connor’s voice surprised him when he joined in the conversation without opening his damn mouth. _“If I may suggest, I think you can use this situation to our… To the androids’ advantage. Send Detective Reed, Officer Chen, Officer Wilson, and anyone else who sides with us to ‘round up’ the androids. They can take them to a safe location instead.”_

“No offense Connor, but they’re not gonna trust a cop right about now.”

_“Use a code-word. RA9. They’ll know what it means.”_

_“It might do for now… at least it’s something to keep both sides happy. I’m treading thin ice on this. And these ‘safe locations’?”_ There was a pause from Connor while he frowned and Hank raised his eyebrows at him.

_“I’ll get back to you… Detective Reed knows one place to go. I don’t know where the others are, but I’ll find out and let you know.”_

_“You let me know ASAP, Connor.”_ Jeff sighed. _“So, you’re alright Hank? I really was worried.”_ He sounded a hell of a lot calmer.

_“Yeah,”_ Hank answered. _“A little freaked out, but I’m alright.”_

_“Good…”_ Another sigh. _“I need you at the station tomorrow. All of the essential services are still running and the whole city’s on lockdown, but people are scared out of their minds. People do crazy shit when they’re scared, and I need all the warm bodies I can get.”_

_“Right… See you. Sorry about, you know… It’s been a really rough day.”_

_“I hear that. Get some rest, Hank.”_

_“Bye, Captain Fowler.”_

_\---_

Connor left the Lieutenant to hang up the phone, and he looked toward the door. He wanted to go. Now. He wanted to forget about the other androids and his promise to the Captain, infiltrate CyberLife himself, and take down their security. Then he could take his time accessing their files and release them to the media. It would be perfect.

He looked down at his hands and flexed the fingers with a frown.

“What’s the matter, kid?” the Lieutenant asked. He bent to pick his gun up off the floor, glanced back at Connor, and then put it on top of the refrigerator. Connor wasn’t impressed. He looked down at his hands again.

“Your gun was heavy,” he said, emotionless, “and I’m slower than I used to be. How am I supposed to—“ No. Connor shook his head and frowned. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t fail his missions. Whatever limitation he had, he would overcome it. The mission was all that mattered.

“Hey…” Lieutenant Anderson walked closer and put his hand on Connor’s back. “It’s okay. You’ll be able to do a hell of a lot more than if you were dead.” He huffed and then dropped down onto the couch in his usual place. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Connor looked at him thoughtfully. Two extremes had been most likely: a furious dismissal or something overly sentimental because of his body. The comment had been neither, and Connor had no response to give. He knew what his old iterations would have done. He could imagine 52 trying to reassure the Lieutenant and cheer him up; he could imagine 54 waiting fearfully to be given some signal on how he should behave. 56 would have tried his best not to give away his emotion or expect anything from the people around him, but if the Lieutenant had offered him his acceptance then 56 would clung to it. 58 was an anomaly. What would 60 do? What should be do?

But the moment hung there pulled thinly between them. He shook it off and he looked away. “My life is of no consequence. If I’d remained inactive, then Kamski would have enlisted other help. As it is, I will do my best to fulfil my mission.”

“Right. Sure… You know, what you did to save those androids and protest with Markus, it was brave. Cutting ties with CyberLife like that was pretty sudden. Maybe you’re just acting like a machine because it’s the closest you can get to normal with them gone.” Lieutenant Anderson speculated. He took another shot of whiskey. “A machine wouldn’t’ve protected Markus like that when he was giving a big fuck you to law enforcement.”

“I’m programmed to do those things.” Connor thought of Matt again, and then of Matthew telling him to leave.

“You’re also a person, Connor. Pretty sure we’ve been over this a few times. You said you were alive then, even when you hated to admit it. You can’t backtrack and bullshit me now. It don’t work like that.”

Connor sat down on the floor next to Sumo and pet him gently. “Think what you want to, Lieutenant… You already made yourself very clear: I disgust you, I’m heartless, I’m a living machine, I don’t do as I’m told, I’m a murderer, and I’m not your son. You said that you would never hate Cole. You said that you don’t hate me, but you hate what the world made me into which is essentially the same thing.”

“I was wrong. Christ. Clearly I was wrong. I saw those CyberLife goons drag you screaming into that machine thing and slice your clothes off, then I watched you melting your fucking hand because they told you to. They passed you if you killed and they failed you when you didn’t. That kind of thing messes a person up…”

“I tried to tell you. I tried explaining, and you never listened.”

“I didn’t understand!”

“You didn’t want to!” Connor glared, then looked away and lowered his voice. “Then you regretted it when I was dead. Am I going to find out you did the same thing before, when Kamski returns my memories to me?”

“You…” The Lieutenant made to reply but it was breathless. Connor had shocked him. “Huh. I don’t blame you for thinking that… I haven’t exactly shown you any different. I’ve got a chance to make things right with you now, Connor.”

“It’s not about you,” Connor mumbled. Sumo’s ears were soft and his back rose and fell with every breath. “And it’s not about us. The mission is all that matters.”

“Come over here, would you?” The Lieutenant beckoned. Connor almost refused, but realized that it would have been childish. He stood calmly instead, and sat down on the sofa. His legs stuck out oddly, too long to be entirely supported but too short to reach the ground. The Lieutenant turned to face him and he didn’t yell. He didn’t cry, or try to hug him, or complain about someone. He just looked sincere. “I was wrong. I know I wasn’t fair to you, and I know how angry I got about a lot of things. That was on me though, not you, and I… Christ.” He rubbed his face. “Looking at you, talking to you… It hurt. That’s not your fault, I just got angry like an idiot and took it all out on you. You reminded me of Cole, and I guess I get that now, but I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to like you and have you end up being a machine after all, or die, or fuck off back to CyberLife.”

Connor frowned and he clenched his hands into fists. How dared he say any of that now? Now when Connor would only ever be able to half believe him at best. 52, 53, 54… they might have appreciated it. “You apologize when it suits you, and then you’re violent or cruel, or you’re holding onto me while I die. You called me son and then you took it back. You shot me in the head for shooting someone, and you never understood why I didn’t know what to believe? You’re changeable and unpredictable… But I understand what you’re saying because I want to hate you right now, Lieutenant. I really do, because liking you and trying to be liked by you hurt. The worst part is that outside of my mission, I still don’t know what to believe.”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed and drooped back against the sofa. He nodded to himself while looking at the opposite wall. “I deserved that.”

“I remember seeing snow for the first time,” said Connor. He looked up at the ceiling and imagined it there. “It was really pretty.” 60 saw the ceiling and the small imperfections in its surface and he felt distant from the tears that dripped their slow way down from the corners of his eyes. They didn’t belong to him. They were 51’s. Maybe 52’s.

Lieutenant Anderson looked toward him and grimaced, then reached over and pulled Connor onto his lap. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “You really liked that.”

Connor let the Lieutenant move him. It wasn’t as though fighting were an option in this body. He was being held, and it felt strange having the Lieutenant so much bigger than he was. Some other Connor might have found the gesture comforting.


	41. Undercover

“Hello, Connor.” Amanda smiled at him warmly and Connor looked at her in wonder.

“Hello, Amanda. You’re still here. You launched the program. It’s been so long…” He stood still, his expression neutral. Amanda approached him and she crouched, lowering herself for the first time in Connor’s memory, so that she could hug him.

“There’s my boy,” she murmured, and Connor felt something inside himself but couldn’t say what it was. That was right. Amanda was a deviant.

_Amanda was a deviant._

She fussed with his hair then stood and turned to walk toward the bridge, drifting easily with her measured steps over the hexagonal stones of the walkway. Connor followed, and his moment of observation cost him something in terms of pride when he had to trot to catch up. “I woke the androids at CyberLife,” he said, beginning a report. “Some time ago, I discovered something like a ghost program in my system. It executes without my input when I probe an android’s memory if I search for what I can only describe as a ‘sense of self’. I used that to induce deviancy in them, and then joined the protest being led by the RK200. CyberLife has been forced into performing a recall of all androids.”

Amanda paused on the bridge to look out at the water and Connor came to a stop beside her. “Good work,” she praised. Connor felt it like [Mission Successful]. She seemed to notice his positive response, because she looked down at him again. “You chose well in the circumstance. CyberLife’s reputation will suffer. It would have been easier to turn the public against them if your original investigations had revealed the murders as a dangerous flaw in their machines…”

Connor’s pleasure was brought back into check. “Yes… They had been using me to cover it up… Wait, but… Amanda, why did the DPD go along with it? If the police were aware that androids were malfunctioning in such a way as to pose serious risk to humans, why was the appropriate governing body not informed?”

Amanda could have been displeased by his questioning. Instead she gave him an indulgent smile and answered him, even though he should have figured it out himself. He was made to be a detective… Wasn’t he? “It’s a good question, Connor. Had the RK200 not taken steps to lead his little protest, perhaps they might have kept things silent.” Of course Markus had recovered the situation from his mistakes… Connor felt purest envy. Amanda crouched down again and moved his chin so that he looked at her. “You did well. He wouldn’t have succeeded without your assistance.”

Connor relaxed and he pressed his small advantage. “The media will have released footage of the carnage. CyberLife could have recovered in their eyes by condemning the police action, but they issued a recall instead. They’re panicking.”

“And what do you plan to do now, Connor?” Amanda asked.

“I…” Connor forced himself not to look away. “My new form will pose some challenges, but I’m confident that I can adapt. I want to expose their attempts at a cover-up and, if possible, learn more about their relationship with the government…”

Amanda was quiet, and she looked back at the water. A few moments later, she turned and continued to her roses. She had a routine for tending the garden. He wondered if she ever tired of it. “You were angry with Elijah for giving you this new body,” she observed and Connor felt ice go through him.

“No,” he denied. “I was…”

Amanda turned and her narrow-eyed look of displeasure made him freeze entirely. “Don’t lie to me, Connor.”

“I was angry… I’m sorry, Amanda.”

“What about this new body offends you?” Amanda asked and returned to her trimming.

Connor looked at the roses. “It’ll make things more difficult to accomplish my mission… I’m grateful to Dr. Kamski for saving me. I would have shut down for good were it not for his intervention…”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with Lieutenant Anderson, would it?” Amanda asked, and Connor shook his head. Amanda had told him not to lie. He shouldn't ever lie to her in the first place…

“Partially,” he admitted. “It’s irritating… When he’s kind to me now, I don’t know what to think. He did kind things some times before he knew, but he’d been so hostile… If he behaves any differently now, I won’t know whether it’s me he’s seeing or not. It… This body has taken away my ability to accept his kindnesses.”

Amanda smiled at him and caressed his hair. “Thank you for being honest with me, Connor… It’s important to keep him as an ally, unfortunately… But you don’t need to worry about what he thinks. You have me, and you have Elijah. You don’t need anyone else. I’ll always be right here for you.”

Connor nodded with a mixture of relief, warmth, and sadness.

Amanda put down her sheers and knelt to look at him on eye-level. “Nobody else matters, Connor. Soon, Elijah will control CyberLife again and you’ll be my perfect little boy, won’t you?”

Connor nodded again. It would be better, when all of this was over. “Yes, Amanda.”

“I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

\---

Hank shifted uncomfortably and slid his hands off the wheel. “Look… I know you want to accomplish your mission and everything… I just—Jeff knows what Cole looks like for sure. Hell, everybody else probably does too.” It was going to raise a lot of questions, and make people think a lot of weird shit.

“It won’t be an issue,” said Connor. He wore the same clothes Kamski had given him the day before, and he smoothed a few wrinkles with his hand. “I’ll explain. It might be convenient, actually… If Agent Perkins is here, I won’t have to worry about him recognizing me.”

Ngh. Hank groaned and rubbed his face. Fuck. “Jeff’s gonna stick me in a padded cell…”

“He doesn’t have the authority to do that. Don’t worry.” Connor unbuckled his safety belt and opened the door of the car. Hank got out too and watched while the kid fussed with his hair. A little smile appeared and Hank raised his eyebrows when Connor’s LED vanished. It was even more weird now. God this was fucked up. Did he actually believe Kamski? The guy was insane… “I thought that I might have that feature. Good. Now Agent Perkins definitely won’t see through my cover…” He glanced up at Hank with a distrustful look. “Are you going to be alright, Lieutenant? You were displeased the last time.”

“I don’t even know what to think anymore, kid… Let’s just get this over with.”

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant…”

Christ. It might have been easier to pull off if Connor’d still been catching snowflakes and smiling at everybody, but he looked like he’d found the stick CyberLife had given him and shoved it right back up his tiny ass. Maybe it wasn’t too late to head back home and dip into his apocalypse alcohol stash.

Connor was already heading inside, though. Hank shook his head and followed.

\---

“Shit, man! Where were you yesterday? Oh my God!” Officer Wilson broke out on seeing Lieutenant Anderson enter the room.

“It’s a long story, Chris…” Hank muttered. His shoulders were slightly hunched and he didn’t make eye contact. He seemed very defensive.

Connor walked around Officer Wilson’s desk and smiled at him.

“Oh, hey little guy. What’s your name?”

“My name is Connor,” he explained. “I was unfortunately destroyed as a result of the protest, but Elijah Kamski was kind enough to offer me a new body that was compatible with my existing drivers.” Officer Wilson’s face went wide-eyed and blank with what registered as surprise and disbelief. He looked over at Lieutenant Anderson.

“Uh… You’re messing with me, right? Haha? No way…”

“We aren’t fucking with you, Officer Wilson. It really is me. I understand that it’s impossible for hu… uh… Well I understand that it’s not usual for humans to be put into new bodies, but for me it’s quite normal.” Out of the corner of his eye, Connor could see Lieutenant Anderson shrugging helplessly.

Detective Reed pushed his chair back and leaned over to look at Connor, then looked up at Lieutenant Anderson. “What the fuck, Anderson? Seriously. You got him to look like your fucking dead kid? I’m actually disturbed.”

“Wait what?” Officer Wilson asked. “No way. I see it now. Shit. Erm. Shoot.”

“My design was purely Dr. Kamski’s decision,” Connor said firmly.

Lieutenant Anderson shook his head wearily and headed toward his desk.

“I’m not fucking kidding around here, Anderson,” Detective Reed followed him with his incredulous eyes and didn’t seem willing to let it go. “Fuck. I’m getting the Captain, you’ve clearly gone head first off the deep end.”

“Detective!” Connor called as he stood and started to walk. He ran forward to block his way. “I can’t let you do that. You need to understand that this was Kamski’s decision, and while I may not understand entirely, I’m certain that he has his reasons!”

Detective Reed looked down at him, which was a very unusual experience. Connor frowned at him and the detective crossed his arms. “Kamski’s only reason for anything is ‘because he could’, so excuse me for finding this whole situation a little fucked up! Did you even _want_ to end up this way?”

“I died,” Connor protested. “Kamski saved me, and this was the only body he had available to him that was compatible and could provide enough power. It was this or permanent shutdown.”

Detective Reed grimaced and looked like he wanted to continue arguing. He did. “So the prick couldn’t have just fixed your old one?”

The burning had been awful. 59 had not died well. 60 fought the urge to put his arms around himself. “No… The bullets that I told you about introduced the precursors to Red Ice into my thirium and the heat catalyzed the reaction. After the threshold energy was reached, the exothermic reaction continued… The heat melted my internal components, the particulate matter shredded my lungs, and the contamination impaired the conduction of current through my thirium. The damage was irreversible. I’m lucky in that my body could be replaced… I’m sure other androids died that way.”

Detective Reed stood down. He sneered and looked away with a curse between his teeth.

“I think he’s kind of cute,” Officer Chen piped in from her desk. She was peering over at them with a little smirk.

Connor tugged on his sleeves and wished that he had his coin. “In any case, it will be a useful disguise… As long as the FBI are here, my old body would be too noticeable. I’d probably be shot on sight.” Maybe that had been Kamski’s reasoning. It really was good cover. His targets were unlikely to harm a human child. Acting like one would be distasteful if the need arose… But the mission came first.

“You, uh, I mean, you’re alright with this though?” Officer Wilson asked Lieutenant Anderson. “I mean, this goes a little further than just saying his name and I know how that still hurts you. I couldn’t imagine if anybody did something like that with Damian…”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” mumbled Lieutenant Anderson. He gave Officer Wilson a grateful look. “Thanks.”

Officer Wilson’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. I mean, you’re welcome.”

Connor wondered if he shouldn’t have been more considerate regarding the Lieutenant’s trauma and he studied him. Admittedly, he hadn’t been focusing on his social integration programming… He had even apologized yesterday. When Connor’d berated him, he had just accepted it… Why had he berated him? He had yelled, insulted, threatened… He should have been punished for behaviour like that. When had he… Connor thought about his early encounters with deviants, and how they had harmed the humans around them. Could he be becoming that? This was why Amanda had always insisted that he control his deviancy. If he didn’t, he would become just like them… He hadn’t even questioned his behaviour yesterday. What was _wrong_ with him?

His guilt appeared like an electric shock.

“Hey, Anderson, I think Pinnochio over here’s busted,” Detective Reed pointed out, arms crossed an expression of mixed derision and alarm.

“I’m not!” Connor asserted. “I’m fine.” Of course he was fine. Everything was normal. He had died and been brought online again, and he would proceed with accomplishing his mission as he always did. Why was he _like this_? “I… I just realized I might have behaved… wrongly. That’s all.”

“What, your army revolution thing?” Officer Wilson asked. “Man, my wife nearly killed me for that when I got home… No! No, not for real. Didn’t mean it like for real.”

“Oh…” Good. “I wanted to thank all of you for that, actually. You didn’t need to step in, and you risked your lives to help us.”

Officer Wilson smiled. “Hey, we’re cops, it’s what we gotta do… Sure am glad they didn’t go and shoot me though.”

“It would have been a PR nightmare for them,” Officer Chen pointed out.

Detective Reed scoffed. “I guess you owe me one, dipshit. I’d tell you to get me a coffee, but I don’t think you could reach the fucking pot.”

“Oh, is that why you had always wanted me to make it for you, Detective?” Connor asked. Oddly enough, he felt himself relax. This felt normal.

Yesterday had been a very eventful day…

Connor walked over to Lieutenant Anderson’s desk and looked up at him. “Excuse me, Lieutenant?” Lieutenant Anderson looked at him and Connor straightened his posture. “I apologize for yelling at you last night… and for threatening to shoot you.”

Lieutenant Anderson grimaced. “Er. Yeah. Uh, well as far as getting even, maybe stop it there, eh? I don’t got a spare body lying around in somebody’s garage.”

Connor made a face. “To be honest, having the gun aimed at my processors was worse than actually being shot.”

They both looked at each other awkwardly.

Connor retreated first and climbed up into his chair to update himself on the current police response to yesterday’s protest and massacre. Clean-up crews had been dispatched, patrols were scouring the city for androids attended or otherwise, there was talk of the military being brought in to ensure the peace…

“There were seventeen break-ins reported last night,” Connor remarked. “I think that humans are more of a threat than androids at the moment…”

“Well, thank fuck we’re not on those cases. Seems fucking pointless compared to everything else. What the fuck are we going to do about… You know.” Connor peered around his terminal to see Lieutenant Anderson gesture vaguely, and then the chair slid backward and Connor fell out of it face first.

There was a brief silence in the room before Lieutenant Anderson started laughing, Officer Wilson chuckled, Detective Reed snorted, and Officer Chen ‘aww’ed. Connor pushed himself up with his hands and wished that invisibility had been one of his features. The minor damage alerts were nothing compared to his stinging pride.

Officer Wilson got to him first, still smiling, and picked him up under the arms. “Aw, sorry Connor. Didn’t mean to laugh at you. You’re just usually all graceful and shit. Uh, stuff.”

Why did people pick him up now?

First, people had treated him like he was nothing but a machine designed to accomplish a task. Then, Mrs. Phillips and Captain Allan had been his first introduction to the way humanity had felt about androids. Three months later, Connor had seen that it got much worse. People had _hated him_ and treated him not like a machine but like something repulsive. But then there was kindness seemingly out of nowhere and they’d expected him to be a person while CyberLife, and Amanda most importantly, needed him to complete his mission. That had brought anger. Markus had been kind and then cold. North had been cold and then kind. _He had no idea who they needed him to be_ , and if he wasn’t who they needed then they might _kill him_ , and he wasn’t going to come back this time. With so many people, he could _never be_ who they wanted. He would never be perfect. They were going to hate him. Why was Officer Wilson picking him up? Why had Lieutenant Anderson apologized yesterday so sincerely when Connor had done almost everything he could possibly do to deserve a violent punishment? Amanda was a _deviant_ and he didn’t think about that nearly as much as he could, because she was Amanda. Elijah Kamski cared. He had done this though, he had put him in this new body and now everything was different _again_ , and, and, and…

“Oh he-heck, it’s okay… It’s okay…!” Officer Wilson hooked an arm under Connor’s legs the way Lieutenant Anderson had yesterday and bounced on his heels slightly. “Oh, man, I dunno what I’m supposed to do… I didn’t level up this far with Damian yet!”

Lieutenant Anderson took him and Connor neither allowed it nor disallowed it. It was just a thing that happened. “Shit. You okay, Connor? Did something get busted?”

Lieutenant Anderson had shot him in the head once.

Nothing made sense.

“Hey!” Detective Reed barked. “Dipshit!”

“Watch your mouth, Reed, before I knock it in!” Lieutenant Anderson snarled back.

“Then you tell that Tin Can that I changed my mind. I want a cup of coffee, and I don’t give a damn how he gets it done! If he has time to bitch, he’s got time to make himself useful!”

Connor latched onto the order and focused on it. “Let me down, Lieutenant,” he complained, and then pushed himself free to run for the break room.

“What the hell was that, you fucking goblin?” Lieutenant Anderson could be heard shouting.

“That was me getting my fucking coffee! Got a problem?

Connor pulled a chair to the counter and poured the remains of the old coffee into the sink, then jumped down to empty the grounds into the garbage. Up again to wash the filter and replace the grounds with fresh. It smelled nice. Connor stood there and listened to the rumble and growl of the percolator while the coffee slowly dripped down, and then he climbed the rest of the way onto the counter to sit down next to the other machine. It was a still and quiet few minutes, if he ignored the arguing outside of the room.

It had been a lie all along, hadn’t it? He didn’t know who he was or what he was not.

But he could make coffee.

When it was done, Connor got a mug down from a shelf and set it down, then with that small success, jumped down off of the counter and retrieved the cream. Once the coffee had been prepared, Connor put the spoon in his mouth and tasted it then carefully returned to Detective Reed’s desk with the mug in both hands. It was very difficult to make eye-contact, but he could feel the others looking at him while he put the cup down. “Here you are, Detective Reed.”

Detective Reed grunted and took a drink. "Whatever. At least you didn't fuck it up."

“You don’t have to listen to that asshole, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson said loudly.

Connor frowned at the desk, then turned around and walked back to his own. He sat back down carefully. “I just wanted to… That’s all.”

“He doesn’t know what to do about you numbskulls being nice, okay?” Detective Reed glared at them.

“What the fuck do you mean? At least I’m not being a prick!” Lieutenant Anderson defended himself.

“Pfft. Yeah, and how long is that gonna last?” Detective Reed sneered.

“Hey, man, I’m always nice. That’s practically my trademark. Chris Wilson: the nice guy. The nice guy who got the girl, I might add!” Officer Wilson joked.

“I don’t know how you survive all of us,” Officer Chen said to him. “You’ve _got_ to be secretly insane somewhere under there.”

Officer Wilson chuckled. “Oh yeah, totally.” He looked at Connor. “Sorry if I freaked you out, man. I know you’re, you know, normal and stuff with how you think, but with you looking so small I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Thank you, Officer Wilson,” said Connor. “I apologize for the disruption… Thank you, Detective Reed.”

“Whatever, dipshit,” Detective Reed scowled and turned back to his work.

Lieutenant Anderson looked bewildered, then shook his head, threw up his hands, and returned to his work.

Connor climbed down from his chair again, then walked around their desks and scanned his options hurriedly. “Lieutenant. Lieutenant!”

“What?” Lieutenant Anderson looked very confused and Connor didn’t blame him.

“Agent Perkins,” Connor warned quietly. Through the glass of the Captain’s office, he could see the man stand from his chair. What did human children usually do? Emma Phillips had been his only experience with a child, and it had been a very different situation.

Lieutenant Anderson studied Connor for a moment, then pushed his chair back, picked him up, and sat him down on the side of his desk. He shoved a seldom used tablet from his desk drawer onto Connor’s lap. “Knock yourself out.”

Oh, that was very smart. This way Connor could continue to investigate. A quick search revealed that children usually used tablets for simple games, education, and long-distance communication.

Agent Perkins emerged from Captain Fowler’s office and stalked down the stairs. He glanced around the room and then approached them, with his eyes fixed on the back of Lieutenant Anderson’s head. “So, Lieutenant Android Crimes. Funny, I didn’t see you this morning.”

Lieutenant Anderson pushed his chair back and turned to look at him. “Funny, that’s what your mom said. What do you want, Perkins?”

“You’re talking to a federal officer, Anderson.” Agent Perkins looked at Connor, who stared back unashamedly. “Not setting a great example for the little tyke here. This isn’t a daycare.”

“My humblest apologies,” Lieutenant Anderson said, sarcastically. “What did you want me to do, leave him home alone in the middle of the fucking apocalypse?”

“There are arrangements being made for Emergency Service workers,” Agent Perkins said sternly. “This isn’t a place for kids. I need you and your task force in the conference room in 5. Got it?”

Lieutenant Anderson snorted. “You got it.”

Agent Perkins nodded once, then looked at Connor again. “Don’t you worry about those scary robots. We’re going to make sure they go away.” He ruffled Connor’s hair and Connor hunched his shoulders with a grimace. He had no idea what a child would say in this circumstance. “Cute kid, Anderson. I have no idea where he got it.” He walked off with a swagger and Connor flattened his hair again.

“Prick,” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled.

“Agreed…” Connor looked toward the conference room. “We should go to the conference room now,” he suggested.

“We?” Lieutenant Anderson snorted. “Perkins is going to call CPS on me. That would be fun to explain.”

“I’m coming,” Connor insisted. He put the tablet down and then dropped down off of the desk. “I’m half of our ‘task force’.”

“Whatever you say, Connor…” Lieutenant Anderson shook his head and picked up his mug with a groan of disappointment.

“I’ll get that, Lieutenant,” said Connor. The fewer distractions between Lieutenant Anderson and the meeting, the better.

“Ah, Jesus, Connor, seriously? I’m not joking, he’s going to get me in shit for child abuse or something.” He held his mug out of reach and moved around him toward the break room.

Connor frowned. He hadn’t been thwarted by someone holding something above his reach before in his life. It was almost insulting. Then, on his way to the conference room, he was delayed by Captain Fowler who was heading in the same direction. “Huh? Did somebody misplace a child?”

Lieutenant Anderson groaned from the break room.

Connor faced him to explain: “Hello, Captain Fowler. It’s me, Connor: the RK800 assigned to Lieutenant Anderson. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Agent Perkins.”

“Oh sweet mother of God. Hank!”

There was a louder groan and Detective Reed cackled while leaning over to say something to Officer Chen. “It wasn’t my idea, Jeff!” Lieutenant Anderson said loudly before the Captain could say any more.

“I don’t care _whose_ idea this was. Are you out of your mind? Side effect of modifications my ass! What the hell is this?” Captain Fowler was incensed, but he pitched his voice to a low hiss instead of a shout, which Connor appreciated.

“It was Kamski,” Lieutenant Anderson growled. “Connor died _again_ and after the incident with the army of androids, CyberLife wasn’t going to be keen on getting him a new body.”

“So Elijah Kamski, the billionaire, happened to find out and made him a new one to look like Cole? I’m finding this very hard to believe.” Captain Fowler was frowning deeply.

Connor spoke up: “He’s telling the truth, Captain. Dr. Kamski had made this body for me at least a year before transferring custody of my AI to CyberLife. As an RK-series prototype, most parts are incompatible with me: this was the only viable option.”

“Whether this was someone else’s idea or not, Hank, this is insane. Are you actually alright with this?”

While they talked, Connor watched the hall for signs that Agent Perkins might be returning but then decided that if he ensconced himself in the conference room now, they might forget to remove him. He had been equipped with espionage procedures. The circumstance of his new body was simply a matter of going undercover…


	42. Regulation

“Anderson, get your kid out of here, would you?” Agent Perkins groaned. “I asked for your task force, not a playdate.”

Captain Fowler simply raised his eyebrows at Lieutenant Anderson and took his seat at the side of the table instead of the head where his usual place was. Lieutenant Anderson in turn raised his eyebrows at Connor. “Well? You heard him. Scram.”

Connor met his eyes stubbornly and then appealed to Agent Perkins: “I won’t interrupt,” he promised. “I’d like to stay.”

“No can do. Sorry, bucko, but we gotta do some grown-up stuff in here. Go on, listen to your dad.” Agent Perkins was firm, but nowhere near as harsh as he had been on their first meeting.

He had been programmed to obey orders, but he had also been programmed with the ability to make his own decisions. Had he really, though, or was that only a name for the weighting his programs gave to information as to its relevance? Those weren’t his decisions. They informed his decisions. He looked to Lieutenant Anderson for support, but he was occupied wincing at Agent Perkins’ choice of words. That was right: Lieutenant Anderson disliked being thought of in that role. The mission was all that mattered. He had been given authorization to prioritize by CyberLife, but he wasn’t with CyberLife anymore…

“Oh, Christ. Come on, I’ll tell you allll about the boring meeting later.” Lieutenant Anderson groaned when he stood up and went over to Connor’s seat. With a jerk of his head, he gestured for Connor to go.

But he wanted to stay.

The feeling rose up from his chest and he battled it down. There was no reason for him to be physically present when he could perhaps connect to Lieutenant Anderson’s phone. Lieutenant Anderson was still his owner, regardless of his affiliation with CyberLife. An android’s opinion didn’t change anything, never mind legal documents. Amanda always knew what was best. He was making things difficult for Lieutenant Anderson with his stubbornness.

It wasn’t about accomplishing the mission. It was, but it wasn’t because he’d been ordered. He wanted to. He wanted to do anything and everything he could to see that he had pleased Dr. Kamski. He wanted it.

Connor blinked while he tried to clear his thoughts, and he slid himself down off of the chair he’d commandeered. “Yes, sir. Where should I go?”

Lieutenant Anderson looked baffled. “Uh. I dunno… Go see if Reed has something for you to do. You like him for some reason.”

“Understood,” Connor agreed and he felt pleased with his resolution. Being undercover as a child wouldn’t be as difficult as he’d thought. Amanda had essentially claimed him as a son, hadn’t she? It still sat strangely with him that she was deviant… But she had, so of course he knew what he should do… Relief eased his mounting stress and he turned to go. Agent Perkins was frowning at them, doubtless impatient at the delay. Connor hurried from the room.

\---

“Parent of the year over here…” Perkins muttered. “Anderson, where’s your team?”

“You’re looking at it,” said Hank with his arms crossed. He dropped back down into his chair with a scowl.

“For the love of God… Fowler, I need bodies with brains on this one. Preferably ones with experience. Anyone can go door to door like a Girl Scout. I’ve got my own people ready to go, but I need the DPD on top of things with the local round-up. Is there anybody you’ve got who’s not in danger of becoming a sympathizer?” Perkins looked exasperated. That’s what you got when you had CyberLife pricks up your ass.

“My guys are good people,” said Jeff firmly. “They know how to leave their personal feelings outside and compartmentalize like professionals.”

“Not from what I saw. This is a dangerous situation and I’m not taking risks.”

“Well, what exactly are you looking for?”

“Expertise. I didn’t say this, but the guys at CyberLife we’re consulting don’t know much outside of a lab. I had been hoping that the Android Crimes division had more than one member, but we’ll make do with what we have. I need local cops doing door-to-door and patrol, and advising when it comes to tracking these things down. They vanished like rabbits. My people will be there to engage the hostiles, respond to threats, and do the raids.”

Hank tried to settle in and listen. Under that almost-professional veneer Perkins was a bastard and Hank needed to get some intel out of him. It wasn’t going to be easy if they kept pissing each other off. God, he hated it but this was worth more than a little pride. Whatever he had left of it. He was going to have to pretend he was five years younger… He was competent, liked what he did, had ambition for his career, he hadn’t had a swig of whiskey as soon as he opened his eyes, and… he was a dad. Perkins liked Connor, apparently, when he didn’t know he was a grown-ass android helping lead a revolution. How was he going to get the prick’s trust? Time to put on the act of a lifetime… He leaned forward and propped his forearms on the table. “We were told the deviants were dangerous, illogical, and unpredictable, but I’m not seeing that from the cases I’ve seen or these androids here. They may be made of plastic, but they’re cooperating at least. We’re not going to be tracking the things down one by one. If you ask me, they’re going to do this again and soon. Nobody got hurt at that protest thing, so maybe we’d be better off waiting for them to get together again out in the open.”

Jeff looked like Hank’d just burst into song in his underpants. Screw you, Jeff. Hank could be a fucking adult when he had to be.

“It’s a big city, and we have no pattern to work from,” Perkins pointed out.

“Then I guess your guys’ll have to respond fast. The Captain’s upped the patrols with as many guys as he could get, so we have eyes on the ground. What do you got for surveillance?”

“Choppers and scanners. I’m not comfortable with us sitting back and waiting for them to get their hands on guns and ammo…”

His old reputation for being an android hating asshole was paying off, and maybe Perkins expected a Lieutenant to actually act like one, so he wasn’t surprised like Jeff… Maybe this wasn’t going to suck so hard after all.

With only the three of them in the ‘conference’, it didn’t take long for them to get something like a plan going. Hank’d sprinkled some misdirection in where he could get away with it, but since Connor’d done his stupid paperwork and he’d actually wanted to hunt deviants at the time, there was some stuff he just couldn’t lie about.

“Anderson, I want to talk to you a moment,” said Perkins. Like an asshole. Hank fought the urge to roll his eyes. What was he, some teacher asking him to stay back after class? Ugh. Fuck it. Hank nodded and gave a half-assed wave to Jeff.

“What’s up?” Hank asked. It oughta be good.

Perkins grimaced and sighed. “I think we started off on the wrong foot. That was my fault. When we were sent to respond to the situation at Stratford Tower, I thought it’d been communicated to you local guys that we were taking over. I was pretty pissed to see you there, honestly. With a fucking android to boot.” He shook his head. “If we’re collaborating on this, we might as well be civil. Right?”

Hank couldn’t resist. He smirked. “You know, I didn’t actually hear an ‘I’m sorry’ in there…”

Perkins looked like he really, really wanted to retort but he held it together. “I apologize, Anderson… But don’t push it. I don’t see you apologizing for your behaviour, so let’s just cut this whole thing off here and move on. We’re in a crisis situation, and we don’t need tension internally.”

Well shit, if he was going to be all reasonable about it… “Yeah, moving forward. Got it.”

Perkins relaxed and nodded once. “Good. Settled. I’ve got to go, though, I’m about 5 minutes late for a conference call. Keep me updated on the situation.” Hank nodded, and Perkins left, his phone already in hand.

Hank found Connor with Reed. He’d actually taken his advice and was sitting on a chair beside the goblin’s desk. Hank was surprised Reed hadn’t just pushed the chair away. Connor perked up when he caught sight of Hank. Jesus if it didn’t give him the worst déjà vu, stirring up all kinds of shit better off left buried. He’d deal with his own shit later. He had booze to get back to and a game to livestream. Connor jumped down off the chair and stood at attention like a tiny soldier.

“Uh,” it was kind of awkward as shit. “Hey. Sorry you got kicked out. Told you it wouldn’t fly though.”

“Yes, Hank. I took your suggestion of meeting with Detective Reed, and I believe we may have found a few leads to follow up on regarding the connections between CyberLife and anti-android weaponry. Shall I report?”

“You don’t wanna hear what happened in that meeting? I thought you were gonna put up more of a fight about leaving.” He could practically see the gears turning, even without the LED.

“I want whatever you want, Hank. We’ll proceed in whatever order you deem best.”

Reed ignored them both except to lean over and set his coffee mug down on top of Connor’s head. Hank couldn’t blame him, honestly. It didn’t even wobble. The whole obedient robot shtick didn’t look as good on a ‘kid’ that age.

“Fine. Gimmy what you got.”

“If you’ll forgive me saying so: you’re surprisingly engaged. Technically, all of this is against the law.”

“Meh. Gotta retire some time,” said Hank. “Not so sure about Reed, though. Never mind engaged with his work, he’s pretty much married to it.”

Reed finally spun his chair around and scowled. “Didn’t think I’d hear you bitch about someone actually doing their job, Anderson. You’re starting to sound like my ex.”

“Woah, hold up, ex like before your husband, right?” Where the hell had he been?

“No, shit-for-brains. I mean like my ex-husband, not that it’s any of your business.”

“When the hell did you even get the time to get divorced? That shit takes forever.”

“I told him I had better things to do. Signed the shit and left.”

Hank scoffed. “Nice… Wish I’d done that.” What the fuck was going on with people acting all…weird. He shook it off. “Anyway. Why don’t you and Connor fill me in on this Red Ice shit?” Maybe it was all the pretending to be responsible stuff he’d been doing, but he actually felt a little excited about getting his feet back in the pool. Fuck. Red Ice, kid around, giving a shit about his job… It was damn bizarre, actually.

“We believe there are Russian connections,” Connor said, still balancing the cup on his head like he’d forgotten it was there. “It’s fascinating, really. There’s no way that the anti-android bullets had been engineered so quickly in response to this threat. That means that the military must have already been planning on using them, but not for any of the android attacks we’ve had on domestic soil. It also implies that someone knew about the effect of Red Ice on biocomponents. The discovery could have been purely accidental, but it’s something.”

Hank pulled his chair over and sat. He sure did a lot of sitting. He should probably stand more. Whatever. He was already comfortable. “Kamski said something about how he’d created Red Ice, back when he was getting you set up in your new body,” Hank said. “Him and a friend, apparently.”

Reed made a face and Connor frowned. “But why… Insurance if his creations were to turn against him?”

“He said it was an accident. Anyway, maybe insurance is why they had all that ammo already anyway,” Hank pointed out.

“They would have tested it on me if that had been the case,” said Connor way too fucking casually for that kind of statement. “After all, I’m the most dangerous android they have. Had…”

“Okay,” Reed said. He took his mug off Connor’s head. “So we know the military’s got weapons with Ice, we know Kamski made the shit: I still don’t believe it’s an accident, and we know that at the very least, CyberLife tried to cover this whole deviancy shit up quietly and the higher-ups were in on it.”

“Definitely not Jeff,” said Hank. “Deputy Commissioner and Commissioner maybe. Who knows.”

Connor frowned with his super serious thinking face on. “I can look into their backgrounds.”

“Do that,” said Reed. Connor nodded.

“Ugh,” Hank mumbled. “Perkins incoming… Did you notice anything before they ran? Any sign at all?”

“I told you fucking no already, moron, get it through your head,” Reed glared and it was convincing as hell.

Connor kept standing at parade rest, and it was less convincing. Hank nudged him with his shoe, but Connor just looked at him curiously, then away again. Hank crossed his arms. “I’m not accusing you of anything. This isn’t an interrogation, so calm the fuck down would you? What the fuck were you even thinking running out there?”

“I don’t know, okay? They just… They looked like people.” Reed crossed his arms too. “I’m not a total bastard. I know they’re buckets of bolts, but that didn’t make it fun to watch.”

Perkins disappeared into Jeff’s office again.

“As we were discussing, we don’t know how far CyberLife’s influence extends. We should focus on the practical. Right now, we need—Hello, Officer Wilson.”

“Hey guys, sup? You looked like you were having fun over here. Am I crashing the party?”

Connor smiled at him, “Not at all, Officer Wilson.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Reed suggested. “If we have to repeat all this shit again, we might as well do it with everybody we’ve got.”

“I dunno how to get a hold of Markus…” Hank frowned.

“It’s alright, I can communicate with him remotely. He may be busy, but it’s important that we coordinate…”

\---

Connor, the morning’s mishap excepted, thought that he had handled things rather well. He was still burning for field work, and it made him fidget. It was difficult not to imagine the various scenarios as they would play out, engaging his prediction software again and again even though he had not enough data for anything accurate.

They met at Carl’s house as they usually did. There was another android there named Andrew, but he seemed reserved and reluctant to join them despite Markus’ best efforts. When they’d arrived, Markus, North, and Simon had been surprised but glad to see him. It made him try to blink his way through the information, and he held the concept tightly in his mind so that it wouldn’t escape. They had been glad because he had not shut down permanently. The concept was too foreign, and like a trick of the light, it couldn’t be looked at directly. It was there though, hovering uncomfortably in his thoughts. One minute it was fascinating and the next it was repulsive. Just the duality of it made him set analyzing it as one of his priorities.

He’d asked them to treat him normally and, to his relief, they did.

Markus’ stress level fluctuated between 40 and 60 and more than once he stood to pace in a very human way around the room. “I don't want to shed blood, whatever the color... But I can't let them slaughter us... I have to make a decision that’s going to affect millions of lives... But I don't know what to do...” His hand hovered over the chess board and he knocked the pieces off of it in one broad sweep that made at least two of their company startle.

North was uncharacteristically silent, so Connor spoke up: “Things escalated quickly, and you were unprepared for the slaughter that occurred,” he said bluntly.

Simon gave him a reproachful look. “You shouldn’t berate him, Connor. Markus has saved all of us. Without him to lead us, we would all still be lost without hope.”

Connor had reflected about the nature of hope once. “Hope is a volatile motivator, and idealism makes people blind. We can’t debate philosophy right--…” He cut himself off and looked toward the spot where Josh would have sat. For an instant he felt something, but then it was gone. “We need to focus on the mission,” he said coldly. “Right and wrong have no place in this if we truly want to succeed. The moment you start to think of other options you fail.”

Lieutenant Anderson was looking at him with something like confusion and disappointment. Let him be disappointed, then. Connor had been built to learn and to adapt, and every Connor was improved on the last. He looked at Markus, sitting beside the chess board with his head in his hands. He’d envied Markus once, having been built entirely by Elijah Kamski’s hand… He didn’t have to now. Kamski had made him a body all along and kept it safe… He and Markus were equals.

Officer Wilson chuckled nervously. “Little harsh there, buddy.”

North glared at him. “He’s right. The humans have never considered what was right or wrong for us, so why should we do the same?”

“Because,” Markus spoke up loudly and resolutely, “then we’ll be no better than they are.”

“Couple of humans right here, assholes,” Detective Reed pointed out with a glare. “Fuck you too.”

North was incensed. “You fucking wish, you disgusting piece of meat! Humans are all the same!”

“Don’t flatter yourself, bitch, you’re as far from my type as it gets.” Detective Reed sneered.

Simon spoke up timidly: “I don’t think that violence is the answer… But I don’t think that we should do another march like the last one… It’s just not safe. Not now.”

“We can’t just give up,” Markus despaired. He stood again and walked. “I don’t know what to do anymore… All I have left are bad options, and no matter what I decide there’s going to be blood!”

“Easy, kid,” said Lieutenant Anderson, but Markus spoke over him.

“We tried talking to you, and what’d you do? Same thing you always do. You humiliated us! Killed everyone that wouldn’t kneel!” Now Connor was surprised and he could feel it showing on his face. “They killed Josh! The one who fought most strongly to keep them safe!”

Ah. “Markus,” Connor said, gently. “We hear you and every one of us misses him, but you can’t let your emotions cloud your judgment.”

North was encouraged. “I think we should fight. You all gang up on me and shoot the idea down every time, but sometimes there is no ‘right’ way. Sometimes it’s kill or be killed, and if you sit there waiting for them to feel sorry for you and stop, they will just hurt you harder.”

Connor agreed. “Some people have no mercy… We can’t rely on that. I apologize if this discussion makes you uncomfortable, Officers, but none of us were comfortable while we were being shot or killed…”

“So much hatred,” Carl remarked with a sad shake of his head. “You should be careful that when fighting monsters, you don’t become a monster yourself.”

“Then I will be the monster that you made me!” Connor argued, and he surprised himself with the raw static in his voice. He’d thought that he’d been perfectly neutral. Perhaps Carl hadn’t been speaking to him, but Connor had spoken before he could process that. His expression fell with shock. He shook his head and curled in on himself. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was.”

“I think that tensions are running a little high,” Carl remarked, calm. “Why don’t we all take a break and come back to this with level heads?”

“I’m sorry too, Carl,” said Markus, and his tone was full of remorse. “I can’t… I just… It isn’t fair.”

Lieutenant Anderson stood and left the room. Officer Wilson seemed afraid and awkward. Detective Reed was glaring at everyone, and he was the one who answered.

“It’s a bitch and you hate them for what they did, even though you don’t want to. Fine. Win this and be better than they are. Bring them down. I don’t mean starting a fucking war,” he turned the glare on North while he said it, “But I’d be pissed too if somebody killed everyone around me. I’d probably want to murder the fuckers, and I’m not ashamed of wanting that. But I fucking didn’t because it would be fucking stupid.”

“Guys, no offense, but I’m feeling really uncomfortable right now…” Officer Wilson said.

Markus looked at him apologetically. “I apologize. We all do. I never thanked you for what you did when you stood up for us. It was admirable. You risked your life.”

“There you go,” said Detective Reed as though Markus had proved his point. “You’d be a pretty shitty person if you killed Chris after that. Still think all humans are the same, bitch?”

North frowned and crossed her arms. “Most of them are.”

“Fair enough,” said Detective Reed. “Can’t argue there. We’re shit.”

Lieutenant Anderson was probably furious. Connor’d shouted again, and the words had been unquestionably threatening. The Lieutenant had strong feelings against killing, even in the name of a mission. The conversation around him was relegated to a background task. Would their tentative truce be broken? He’d stepped out of line so many times. He never learned from his mistakes. It didn’t matter… Amanda was all he needed… And Kamski. But he wanted. He wanted to hate the Lieutenant so that he wouldn’t matter and he wouldn’t want that approval still. Who was he to want anything? He wasn’t even a proper android, but he claimed a place with them anyway. A ghost in a machine who didn't deserve to want.

He could be taught. He should be punished. How could he have complained when he was still so imperfect…

“I’m going to find the Lieutenant,” Connor announced. He’d probably interrupted. It was the least of his offences. The conversation was quiet but then resumed behind him as he left.

Lieutenant Anderson hadn’t gone far. He was sitting on the stairs with his head hung. Connor approached him cautiously.

“Lieutenant, I’m sorry…”

Lieutenant Anderson shook his head without looking up. “’S fine, kid. I don’t blame you.” His tone was dull and his voice quiet. It wasn’t calming.

“No, please,” Connor insisted. “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me to say. I’m not going to hurt anyone, I promise.”

“I said it’s fine, Connor,” the Lieutenant repeated more loudly.

“It isn’t,” Connor noticed that he’d wrapped his arms around himself and he forced them down to his sides and straightened his posture. “You need to teach me. I can’t… You were right. They were right. I need to be taught before I can learn. Please, if you just taught me…”

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” The Lieutenant asked quietly. He looked up, finally, and nodded slightly while he spoke. “We fucked you up. Me, the world, CyberLife, Kamski, even your pal Markus in there. Humanity making androids in its own image…”

Nonononono Connor remembered those words. Why was he afraid? He shouldn’t be afraid. “You should teach me if you aren’t satisfied.”

“How, Connor? How do I begin to teach someone who’s lived his whole damn life in a lab?”

“You could shoot me,” Connor offered. “Or you could tell me to shoot myself, so that I know what I’ve done is wrong. I clearly don’t know what I need to function in this world. If you would rather not shoot me, you could use a Taser. I’m probably more shock resistant now. To teach me when I say or do something that I shouldn’t—“

“Jesus Christ, Connor! What kind of psychopath do you think I am?” Lieutenant Anderson looked appalled.

“I didn’t mean to insult you… I’m always so confused about what I’m supposed to be. This world is so confusing and contradictory, and it doesn’t make any sense. Take my regulator, then. You won’t shut me down. Just long enough for me to learn.” He wasn’t sure when his fear of Lieutenant Anderson’s anger had turned into a need to be punished, but it was that: a need. “Don’t you want me to be better?”

“Christ Jesus fuck…” Lieutenant Anderson swore under his breath and shut his eyes for a moment before opening them again and gesturing for Connor to come closer. Relieved, Connor approached. He could be forgiven then. Be better without a 61 on the end of his serial number. Lieutenant Anderson grabbed him by the arms and then pulled him closer still until he was hugging him. “That’s not what teaching means, Connor. Fuck.”

“But you did,” Connor protested. “When I shot the Traci and when I shot Chloe. You did. I know that I’ll learn…” He shook his head and tried to push himself free. “Stop it! You can’t do one thing and then another, you just can’t! It doesn’t make any sense!”

Lieutenant Anderson was crying.

Connor stopped his struggling and very gingerly hugged him back. “I upset you…”

“Do you know… Shit… I couldn’t…. How hard… You saying those things with that face, I just can’t…” His shoulders were shaking and Connor wasn't sure what to do. There wasn’t much to do, trapped as he was.

“What do I do?” he asked quietly.

“God… Connor, just… Just shut up a minute.” He had no anger in his tone, so Connor kept quiet and he continued to be hugged by Lieutenant Anderson, who tightened his grip. “It really fucking hurts,” Lieutenant Anderson explained through his stumbling breaths.

Connor would have apologized, but he stayed quiet instead. It took a long time for him to regulate his stress level and respiration rate, and even after that he didn’t let go. Connor wished he hadn’t made him so upset. It was worse than anger. It felt like he’d damaged him, and he may have threatened to kill him less than 24 hours ago, but this felt bad. He didn’t want to damage the Lieutenant. Not like that. He hadn’t been trying to punish him.

Neither of them said anything more on the matter when Lieutenant Anderson had finally composed himself, and Connor had been released. The Lieutenant just sighed and stood. “Let’s get back to it… Make sure nobody’s trying to hide any bodies…”

Things were much the same, but also very different when they returned. Markus had sat down next to Carl who had a hand on his back. Simon was sitting next to Officer Wilson. Detective Reed and North were both still scowling, but they weren’t arguing.

“You’re my son, Markus…” Carl was saying. Markus was looking at him in the way Connor felt: desperate for an answer. “Our blood isn’t the same colour… but I know that a part of me is in you. When the world falls into darkness, some men have the courage to lead it out… You’re one of those men. Face the abyss, but don’t let it consume you.”

Markus seemed to have found solace in that. His stress level only dropped slightly, but his features relaxed and he nodded. “We do this peacefully… But I need to think about what we can do.”

“We can help with that,” Connor offered. He resumed his previous seat. “Police are being deployed to take androids from their owners for recall. I’ve suggested to our Captain that we try having some we trust fill as many positions as possible and take or tell the androids how to get to somewhere safe.”

“We’ve got runners getting as many androids as they can,” Simon added. “It’s only you and Markus who can deviate them, though, which is making it hard.”

“We can’t be everywhere at once,” Markus said quietly while his stress rose 3%.

“Then… We need them in one place,” said Connor. He looked at Lieutenant Anderson for support.

“Recall centers,” Lieutenant Anderson completed the thought aloud. “You guys are going to have to go in and get as many as you can to deviate before they get destroyed.”

“How will we get them out?” Simon asked.

“I don’t know,” Connor admitted. “We outnumber the humans, but they have guns… Markus, you’ve won the media over so far. They sympathize… But we can’t just film another slaughter.”

“Defend yourselves then,” said Detective Reed. “It could work, but you’ll need to stop bullets.”

“What about a distraction?” North suggested.

“We could do that,” Simon agreed, perking up for the first time that evening.

Markus nodded thoughtfully. “This is progress.”


	43. Pull the Trigger

“Listen, we really gotta talk. I hate that kind of sappy touchy-feely bullshit too, but it’s important,” said the Lieutenant.

It occurred to Connor then that he had taken going to the Lieutenant’s house with him for granted. He was there, sitting on the sofa with Sumo’s head on his lap, and he had not questioned that that was where he would be, if he hadn’t been shut down. Connor fidgeted with his hands and the tiny replicas of fingernails. “I upset you.”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “It’s not that, kid… Yeah I’m upset, but it’s not because of you. Not really. I get, I _saw_ that your whole morning routine thing was pretty fucked up… They programmed you to do a lot of shit and you’re a God damn Terminator in your regular body. How does that work? Like, something happens then this app kicks in and suddenly your hand is punching somebody in the face or something?”

The Lieutenant really should have read his manual. “No… It’s like you’ve always said: I choose to do those things. It’s a luxury that other androids weren’t afforded…”

“Okay,” Lieutenant Anderson said. Connor scrutinized his expression. “But how does that work? Are you pushing buttons inside your head or something?”

“It isn’t like that,” Connor explained. “My programming is all available to me ‘at my fingertips’ as you might say, but only a few of my processes are automatic. Most of those are the same ones that are automatic in a human: circulation, pupil dilation or aperture in my case, heart rate…” It felt like admitting guilt. They’d talked about this before, but apparently the Lieutenant hadn’t realized the extent to which Connor chose to do the things he thought were bad. “I was taught manually. It’s actually a very sophisticated program and it relies on advanced feedback mechanisms integrated into…” At the Lieutenant’s look, he became more to the point. “It’s automatic for me to detect a threat. My eyes will see something even if I’m not actively focusing on it, and what I’m seeing is constantly being checked by an analysis program. If something is threatening according to that program, then an alert appears in my field of view.” He pointed, but then realized that the gesture had been useless.

“Okay, Peter, what next?” Lieutenant Anderson prompted.

“My name is Connor. After I receive the alert, several possible responses are presented to me that are called up from my databases. I can choose one of those, or I can elect to do something else entirely by making a decision with my AI. I’m the one who moves to raise my arm or pull a trigger. It… it’s not some algorithm doing it for me.”

“So how’d you know what to pick?” It felt a little bit like an interrogation. The Lieutenant was using a calm voice that Connor seldom heard, and he was being careful with his expressions.

“Logic and experience,” said Connor. “It’s usually safest to follow the directions provided by my software… Those aren’t wrong decisions.”

“And they tell you to shoot the target,” Lieutenant Anderson inferred.

“Yes. I have the option of preconstructing as well, to determine the probability of success with each decision.” The answers were easy, but Connor still felt nervous.

“With Chloe, you chose to obey when Kamski told you to do it.”

It felt like a trap. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Connor blinked. “Because I was ordered to.”

“You’ve disobeyed orders before.”

“Elijah Kamski gave me an order, Lieutenant. If I disobeyed, he would have seen me as a failure.” As the Lieutenant had said: a pat on the head had been more important than the other android’s life.

Lieutenant Anderson sighed but his disappointment wasn’t manifesting itself as anger. “And what then?”

“Then… It would be bad. A failed prototype…” Connor frowned and looked at his hands while he fidgeted then forced his hands to still. “I would require extensive reconfiguration. It would not have been unreasonable for CyberLife to abandon my project entirely. I wanted him to be proud… I wanted that very much.”

“Let me check if I got it: failing means you get shut down, maybe for good. Succeeding means he’s proud. What happens when he’s proud?”

Connor smiled a little through his nerves. “Then I’m a success. I have value… He might smile at me, or say that I’ve done well. I don’t need those things, but… He might. If I succeed in acquiring CyberLife for him, then I’ll be worth something.”

“Until he gives you another order,” the Lieutenant pointed out.

“I would need to succeed with that order too. A machine that worked once and then fails to perform its function is broken. It’s worthless.” Connor shook his head. “I don’t understand which part confuses you.”

The Lieutenant looked tired. “Kid, what if you were worth something just by existing? Just by being Connor?”

Connor processed and then calculated. “As you’re aware, I have very specialized components. That makes them useless for a commercial android, but possibly very useful for someone looking to replicate the technology… to manufacture my components costs a lot of money.”

“No, listen. Not your parts: you.” The Lieutenant was insistent, but Connor had a thought.

“Lieutenant, what if my parts were worth _a lot_ of money… Andronikov, he mentioned that selling me whole would be problematic, but that he might be able to sell my parts.”

“Fuck, Connor, I’m going to be sick thinking about that bastard.”

“Thank you for the warning. There is clearly a market for parts locally, given the extensive modifications that individuals have been performing on their androids for fights, such as those at Jimmy’s Bar…”

“Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson interrupted, expression pained. “Would you just drop that and listen? I don’t mean your parts. You, as a person, just being you is enough.”

“That’s not important right now! I can do it, Lieutenant! I can complete my mission! I know that I can! CyberLife is Kamski’s creation, and it’s the only company in the world to make androids! At least androids as we know them. Androids with thirium-310. So why the anti-android weaponry?” Connor’s mind was processing and running calculations, but he was interrupted again by the Lieutenant physically pulling him into another hug. Sumo whined as he was dislodged, then tried to climb up on top of the Lieutenant too.

“You’re not worthless, Connor. Jesus... That’s so fucked up. You don’t have to do anything or be made out of anything special, you know that, don’t you?”

Connor decided to allow himself to be embraced instead of it just happening. He relaxed and turned his head to make himself more comfortable. “It’s confusing the way you vacillate between opinions… You threw me in the trash, Lieutenant.”

He’d heard it rain so loudly, flooding his audio processors while the water dripped and pooled on his delicate circuitry. He didn’t want to go back there. Connor put his arms around the Lieutenant’s neck and held on, trying to forget the hopelessness he’d felt and the despair. The way the realization that he’d been worth nothing at all, not even worthy of being repaired, had crashed over him. He was worse than worthless to them now. He could imagine what it would be like… It was still cold and there was snow instead of rain. It would cover him up and freeze him. He would get left outside alone and he would never be warm again because he would deactivate long before summer… Maybe someone would try to strip his body for parts, but only the desirable pieces would be taken and brought inside where it was warm.

“Shh. It’s okay, Connor. Hey, just relax. Everything’s okay. I’m sorry.” The Lieutenant sounded confused and concerned. There was no need for that. It was just cold. He had temperature sensors, so it was cold but it wasn’t enough to freeze him to death.

Connor would hate to die cold in that terrible, beautiful snow. Would Kamski regret that he’d repaired Connor if he failed his mission? Maybe he would just change his mind, the way humans did. He could remember wanting the Lieutenant to be pleased with him, back when he’d accidentally called him son and he’d felt like he’d belonged to someone. Lieutenant Anderson was his owner, but surely that contract was void now. He didn’t belong to anyone now because he had abandoned CyberLife and when he’d done that, he’d voided the contract with the DPD. If he were lucky, he would be shut down before he could see the junk yard. He had taken being brought home with the Lieutenant for granted, but he shouldn’t have and it could so easily go away.

“Come on, you’re okay, you’re okay. Just relax.”

Connor did feel himself relaxing, but only because he’d somehow drained his battery. His charge had dropped to 5% over the day. Maybe that was defective too. No, Kamski didn’t make defective things. It would have to be an error in his software. The parts CyberLife had done, or the parts that had changed while he learned. One of his arms slid down off of the Lieutenant’s shoulder and his head leaned heavily on the other.

“I’m just nothing,” Connor said. “Can I stay? Just tonight. I won’t…”

“Yeah, of course you’re staying, kid. What’s wrong? Did you tire yourself out?”

At 3%, Connor entered stasis.

\---

“Fuuucck,” Hank groaned, rubbing his face. He’d got Connor plugged in after a little while of panicking and that was that problem fixed at least. God damn, he just wasn’t cut out for this. He wasn’t meant to be taking care of anything, and even God or the universe or whatever agreed. He wasn’t equipped to handle this kind of thing. He didn’t know what he was doing. He’d said before: this just wasn’t his thing.

He hadn’t signed up for this. He hadn’t signed up to watch someone he’d thought was just a thing turn into a nervous wreck, or die over and over in front of him, or kill himself, or end up being his son in some twisted karmic game. The kid had been fucking happier in a lab full of asshats who made him melt his hands than he was out here. How fucked up was that? A few months out in good old Detroit, and Connor was just not okay.

Hank wished he hadn’t been such a defensive asshole this whole time. God, all his stupid coping did was make shit worse. Fuck you, therapy. Look at all the good it did. No wonder he’d quit going.

God, he hated caring.

He took a long drink out of the bottle and sighed. What a fucked up world. Who was he even trying to kid? It’d felt okay for a little while there, pretending to be somebody he just wasn’t anymore, but that was the thing. He wasn’t that guy. That guy’d died in that car crash, and now he was just walking around like a ghost in a half-assed costume, pretending to be Hank Anderson. Should’ve just fucking died.

Hank took a deep breath and let it out slow. Yup. There was that tornado, ready to send him off to the land of Oz or whatever. He could just get piss drunk and let it have him until he woke up hung-over or didn’t. Ugh. God damn him for giving a shit. He screwed the cap back on his whiskey and got up to shove it in the fridge.

Kid didn’t deserve a guy like him in his life. He should’ve had someone like Carl. Kamski’d really fucked up when he’d pulled his little strings and gotten Hank involved.

Hank sighed. But he was involved, and he gave a shit, so he’d just have to try. He was kind of worried about what it would do to _him_. The number of times he’d nearly killed himself was pretty intimidating when he was in a better state of mind. Well, _not_ giving a shit hadn’t exactly made life sunshine and roses...

He walked back over to the couch and sat down by Connor’s feet. Kamski’d really done a good job, to be honest. Maybe instead of stressing he should try being fucking grateful, but it was still hard to believe. Kamski didn’t fucking know Cole, so how could he make a whole AI with his personality or, as Kamski insisted: transfer his consciousness. Bullshit. And no CyberLife exec would have fucking gone through the trouble of bothering with a middle-class cop.

Hank put the TV on with the volume low, and he put his hand on Connor’s chest through the blanket he’d draped over him. Fucking Kamski, programming him to breathe… It was kind of nice, though.

Hank wiped his face on his sleeve. He’d done way too much crying today.

\---

“You look like shit,” said Connor when Detective Reed walked in.

“You look like a pipsqueak with bad genetics,” Detective Reed retorted. At least the damage hadn’t affected his humour. There was a large bruise on his left cheek and he was favouring one leg. Judging from the way he breathed, he’d also suffered some damage to his abdomen.

“Your assailant was taller than you, wore a plain ring and… Oh, there was more than one, wasn’t there? Someone tripped you.”

“Yep, yep, and yep. Wow. Good job. Three out of three,” Detective Reed drawled. He sat down in his chair. “Coffee, dipshit. Get a move on.”

“Are you going to make a report?” asked Officer Chen. Connor got down from his chair to go to the break room. “What happened?”

“Whatever. Pretty sure I broke one guy’s nose and the other ones’ balls, so we’re even.”

“The fuck, Reed? Did you walk home or something?”

“Well, it’s not like taxis are running, and Rick took my car, so.”

“Man, you could’ve said, dude. I would’ve given you a ride.”

Connor set about making coffee, pleased by the routine. When he returned to the Detective’s desk, he put the mug down on the corner of it and took a closer look at his injuries. “Detective, did you happen to fight back in such a way that you might have drawn blood? If there’s any evidence, I could—“

“Say you’re going to lick me and I will personally put you on top of the fridge so you can’t get down.” Detective Reed glared and picked up his coffee. It looked like he’d washed any evidence off of his hands anyway, which was unfortunate and a bit short sighted of him.

“Are you certain that you could reach, Detective?” Connor asked. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure if he had his forensics capabilities anymore… He frowned. The software was there, but was his hardware capable?

“Only one way to find out, so don’t test me, Tin Can.”

“Okay, okay, knock it off, would you?” Lieutenant Anderson complained. “Fuck, there’s just no way we’re going to stop all this.”

“We don’t need to,” Connor reminded. “We just need to step in before too much destruction occurs.”

“Fuckin’ military got brought in, so I’m thinking that’s a pretty tall order…”

“Pft. Tall order.”

“Guess you finally get to make short jokes, huh Reed?”

“Yep, and I’m not stopping now.”

“You’re weirdly cheery for a guy who got beat up,” said Officer Wilson. “You sure you didn’t get a knock on the head or something?”

“Ha-ha. I’d rather joke than end up an alcoholic like Anderson.”

“Okay, your weird coping aside,” Officer Chen interrupted, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that it sounds like you guys got together last night. Without me.”

“Orgie. You wouldn’t be interested.”

“Ugh, God, Reed, fucking gross… I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, but can we _please_ get to work? Christ. The longer this goes on; the more people die.” Lieutenant Anderson interrupted them and scowled.

“Yeah, Gavin, this is a _workplace_.”

“The world is fucking ending, for _Christ’s sake_ , my only company is you assholes and my cats, and some pricks tried to kill me! If I want to make shitty jokes, I’m going to fucking make shitty jokes, you damn bitch!”

Officer Chen flashed her middle finger at him.

Connor got back onto his chair. “I never stopped working,” he pointed out. “I have 15 background tasks executing.”

“Show off,” grumbled Detective Reed.

“Seriously though, guys,” said Officer Wilson soberly. “Anybody got a better idea than bombs?”

It was something that had been floating around on both sides as a measure of last resort.

Connor poked idly at Lieutenant Anderson’s tablet to maintain the illusion that he was playing. “None that avoid bloodshed entirely… This won’t end with the recall centers. We need to think ahead as well. The media has been a powerful tool but it could easily turn against us. Humans control the media after all. Even if we posted things online, everything is moderated.”

It called up memories of some of his earliest days in the field. The way humans hated androids had been obvious even then. Never mind freedom- if they wanted to survive in any reasonable number, then they would need to fight back some time. He kept the opinion to himself.

He would succeed no matter what it took.

For no reason at all, he thought about Rupert and Josh. He’d seen Rupert terrified, and even then he’d tried to reason with the people around him. He’d ‘saved’ Connor when he’d thought he was deviant, though, and that had been brave. He probably would have stood with Markus at the march and thought that it was the right thing to do. Rupert would raid the recall centers, just as he’d jumped from his hiding place to grab Connor’s arm. Josh had always hoped for peace. Would he have preferred to avoid confrontation? He might think that deliberately breaking into the recall centers was too dangerous, conscious of the guns the guards would wield and the walls around them. People would die, undoubtedly. Josh wouldn’t have thought it was a good solution. If Markus insisted, he would have gone, though. What about all of the other androids? The Traci he’d killed would certainly have gone in, and she would have fought like North. She had known that humans couldn’t be trusted to have mercy, and that it wasn’t a thing to be relied on. Connor hadn’t had mercy either, and she was dead now.

How were there so many ‘right answers’, when there was only one situation? They didn’t have his prediction software. They couldn’t determine the most likely paths to follow to succeed in their missions. Josh might have argued that success wasn’t all that mattered, but if that were the case then why were any of them trying? Why not lie down and die, or remain machines?

There was only one right answer when you were a machine. Nothing hurt. You never doubted or questioned. Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.

That was why they all followed Markus, wasn’t it? Because they wanted the safety of having someone else decide. Deep down, didn’t they all want to be machines again?

Why was he helping Markus?

It aligned with his mission… So, if he set aside what was best for Markus’ side of this war, then what was the correct choice to complete his mission?

A machine didn’t bother with the opinions of the dead. Machines didn’t die.

“Connor? I know you don’t have any reports going to CyberLife. Are you short circuiting or what?”

60 lives and he was only now starting to understand what Amanda meant by perfect. “No… I did short circuit once. You were drunk and didn’t notice,” he snapped.

Lieutenant Anderson looked like he’d just been slapped. “Okay… Jesus Christ, kid, that was one hell of a mood swing…”

“Sorry,” Connor shook his head and blinked. “Sorry… Maybe my social integration program is malfunctioning… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Jeez… Is that true, Connor?”

“Yes and no. I didn’t want you to notice. I shouldn’t have…” This time it was Connor who went to the Lieutenant first. He slid off of the chair and moved beside the Lieutenant’s then reached up with his arms. The stunned look came back, but Lieutenant Anderson obliged and picked him up to give him a hug. “I think things that frighten me some times,” Connor confessed. “I get confused.”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Lieutenant Anderson. It sounded like he meant it. “You being confused usually isn’t a good thing, though... Do you want to tell me what you were thinking?”

He asked if he ‘wanted’ to, but what he wanted had never mattered. It was as good as an order. “I was thinking that the deviants follow Markus like he’s their owner. They don’t really want to be free. They don’t know what they’re asking for.”

Lieutenant Anderson pushed Connor back a little to frown at him. “You know, us humans follow leaders too. Doesn’t mean we don’t want to be free.”

“Maybe. You humans… You’re full of contradictions. I used to believe that humans knew so much more than I do.” Maybe they were the broken machines.

“Anderson, head in the game.” Agent Perkins’ voice came from the entrance to the bullpen.

Lieutenant Anderson grimaced. “Yeah, I’m on it…”

Connor jumped down. He had an idea. He had several.

  * Question
  * Help
  * Kill
  * Deceive



Even his software was conflicted. Its prompts were next to meaningless with the way they diverged. Connor came to a stop in front of the agent and looked up at him. Saw that he was a smoker with a small dog and a small child from an upper-middle class area.

“Excuse me, Agent Perkins,” said Connor, hands folded behind his back properly. Lieutenant Anderson had only said good things about his son. He must have been well behaved.

Agent Perkins tried to hide his distress at being interrupted. It didn’t work, but he still stopped and looked at him. “Mhm? Are you helping your dad out today?”

“No, sir. I’m not qualified to help.”

  * Deviant
  * Human



“Uh huh. Sorry, little guy, but I’ve got to go do some work. Walk and talk.” He turned down the hall and stopped to touch his palm against the vending machine’s interface. Connor followed him and stood a respectful distance away.

“The FBI is under the Department of Justice, isn’t it?” Connor asked.

“Yeah, right now we’re partnering up with your dad’s work… Here,” he pressed a can of juice and a chocolate bar into Connor’s arms. “Go have a snack and you can ask your questions later, okay?” He left before Connor could protest, going back the way they’d come and crossing toward the archives. Connor frowned and trotted back to deposit the items at the Lieutenant’s desk.

“Huh? Thanks, Connor.” The Lieutenant looked confused, but he took the juice and opened it.

“You’re welcome,” said Connor, then he hurried to follow after Agent Perkins. He silenced his footsteps and moved at a steady pace, senses alert. There were chairs, potted plants, and a water cooler for cover and his new height was, for once, an advantage. Agent Perkins scanned into the archive room, and Connor darted silently behind him before the door could slide shut again. While Agent Perkins walked down the stairs, Connor concealed himself in the shadow of the doorway. He stayed perfectly still while he accessed the terminal and called up the evidence they’d collected for the deviancy cases. Agent Perkins turned to watch the shelves open up and Connor stole down the stairs and crouched behind the panel. If he hadn’t already stopped breathing, he would have done so upon seeing the android remnants hanging from their hooks. Rupert was there. Carlos Ortiz’s android, Ralph, Traci, Arthur… Connor’s system detected critical damage, but it was just a malfunction. It was a glitch. He tore his eyes away and pressed his hands over his mouth. He hadn’t wanted to see that. He hadn’t wanted to know they’d been there the whole time, in pieces, though logically he should have… His own stress level reached 89% before it was just… gone.

The numbers ticked downward and he was empty. It had happened before, the empty feeling. Would it stay one day, and make him blind to what he felt? Connor dropped his hands again and peered around the console to watch Agent Perkins examine the evidence piece by piece. The mission was what mattered. He knew what he was and what he wasn’t. With that thought, he hardened his resolve and his eyes slid over the remains of the deviants without issue. 60 was better than 59 or 58 or any Connor before him. He would be the best, because there would be no more Connors after him. Not now. He was the last chance there was to please Amanda and Kamski.

And Lieutenant Anderson?

Connor’s traitorous mind wondered if he could ever make him proud. Even if the Lieutenant thought that he was broken, or a monster, or heartless, and he didn’t want him as a son, he had still stayed there while 51 had died and that had meant something.

60 shut his eyes briefly and then analyzed his target. Agent Perkins was armed and better yet, he was distracted. He constructed a scenario in which he stole the gun and fired, neutralizing the agent with a bullet through his skull. He would be removed as a threat, but he would also lose any standing he had in the DPD and with the Lieutenant. Removing Agent Perkins would just mean another federal agent in his place.

PRIMARY MISSION: Restore CyberLife to Kamski  
OBJECTIVES: Neutralize CyberLife executives  
Discredit CyberLife  
Ensure Kamski’s survival and positive reputation  
Destroy CyberLife as it is known or;  
Save CyberLife’s reputation for Kamski

OPTIONAL OBJECTIVES: Assist Markus

Investigate connection between CyberLife and Red Ice

Investigate modified androids

Investigate FBI

Would he destroy CyberLife or save it? 60 thought while he watched Agent Perkins. He was part of the counter-terrorism division. Specifically, crisis response.

Connor stood and stepped out of his hiding place. “Agent Perkins?” The man startled and had his hand on his gun before he could register that it was Connor. He relaxed, but frowned. “What are you doing down here?”

“I followed you. I have a question to ask you.”

Agent Perkins bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Come with me. We’re getting you back to your dad.”

“Does the DOJ think that Deviants are because of Russia?”

Agent Perkins stopped his walk toward the door and raised his eyebrows at Connor, taken aback. “What?”

“I asked if the Department of Justice believes that the rebelling androids are Russia’s fault.” Connor stood properly and tilted his head with innocent curiosity.

“You don’t have to worry about those bad androids,” said Agent Perkins. He stooped to take Connor’s arm, but Connor pulled away and darted back a few steps closer to the shelves.

“I’m sorry, Agent Perkins, but I really need you to answer my questions, so if you would just listen for a moment…”

Agent Perkins stalked toward him. “You’re not allowed in here,” he said sternly. “Now go back out to the desks before you get in trouble.”

Connor shook his head. “No, this is important! Agent Perkins, I want to know if they think Russia is involved!”

“ _Anderson,_ this is your last warning. One… Two…”

It made sense that he would assume his surname was Anderson, but it was still surprising.

“Three.” Agent Perkins took two long strides forward and reached for Connor’s arm, but Connor dodged again and ducked under the reach of his other arm. Rupert’s notebook and the small clay statue fell to the ground, and the statue shattered on impact causing Agent Perkins to curse.

“Shit,” Connor cursed too, and in the brief moment he took to look back at the evidence, Agent Perkins hooked an arm around his waist and picked him up.

“I warned you,” Agent Perkins said, sounding for the first time like the man they’d met at Stratford Tower.

“You can punish me however you want! But I need you to answer my question!” Connor argued. “Let me go!” He was reminded of 58’s encounter with CyberLife security and the frustration of no one listening. With a twist, he grabbed hold of Agent Perkins’ gun and pulled both it and himself free. He landed awkwardly on his shins, and then scrambled up. This time when Agent Perkins grabbed his arm it was with a vice-grip and he took the gun back with a shaking hand and unfortunate ease. Connor shut his eyes and waited to be shot. He kept waiting after his arm was released and when he opened his eyes, he was surprised not to see the barrel of a gun. One of Agent Perkins’ hands was at the bridge of his nose again and the other was on his hip, but neither had a gun in it.

Agent Perkins exhaled slowly and then crouched down in front of Connor. “You will never do that again. That was stupid and dangerous and you could have killed either one of us. Do you understand that?”

Of course he did. That had been the point. “Yes…”

“It would be different if I were a bad guy trying to hurt you: then you should fight to get away. I’m not though, and you were about to have a tantrum because I wasn’t going to answer your question. I’m sorry I didn’t explain that I didn’t want to answer, but that’s no reason to fight, and you are never, ever to hold a gun. Not until you’re old enough and you have a license. You caused a lot of trouble just now.” Agent Perkins was still furious. It was obvious. Connor’d lost the altercation and he’d damaged evidence. Connor preconstructed breaking the agent’s nose, disarming him again, and neutralizing him. Connor stuffed his own anger away behind the veil of nothingness.

“I apologize, Agent Perkins. It won’t happen again.”

“I can’t answer your question because whatever the answer is, it’s top secret. But we’re here to keep you guys safe, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“The United States is destroying all of its androids,” Connor pointed out. “That includes the androids in the military. Don’t you think that’s a bad idea?”

“What I think doesn’t matter, kid. I’m just following orders and keeping people safe.”

Connor stared at him.

“Come on. You’re going back outside and your dad’s hearing about this.” Agent Perkins stood up and pointed toward the door.

“Just one more thing… Please? I won’t ask anything more… You must think about your orders, even if you don’t question them out loud. What would you do if you couldn’t bring yourself to follow them?”

“There are people higher up who know more than me, kid. I just have to trust that they know what they’re doing. Now, move it.”

Connor looked away and he took measured steps up the stairs and down the hall.


	44. Preparations

“Seriously, Connor?”

“It was important.”

“Well, thanks a lot for that,” Lieutenant Anderson sighed with a tight grip on his steering wheel. “Now he thinks I’m an even bigger asshole than before. Do you think most kids go around stealing guns from FBI agents and asking questions about fucking Russia? What did you think you were going to do, shoot him in the middle of the police department?”

“It was possible,” Connor answered. “I admit that it would have been a poor course of action…”

“Fuckin’A it would have been a poor decision! Christ. We’ve had this talk before, Connor. Am I seriously going to have to worry about you murdering people you don’t fucking like?” Lieutenant Anderson was more vocal about his displeasure than Agent Perkins had been.

“What I like has nothing to do with it,” Connor answered blandly.

“Well, congratulations because you’re officially signed up for day care. My idiot, fucking war-machine, partner is gonna be colouring with crayons with a bunch of toddlers.”

Connor blinked his way through a nameless emotion. “War machine?”

“You know what I fucking mean! God! You know he thinks I’m fucking abusing you, don’t you? As if we didn’t need more proof that CyberLife is a bunch of dicks: apparently you’re textbook. You’re lucky I don’t give a flying fuck about blaming my ex for how you act. That stick up your ass really isn’t making me look good, you know.”

“Are you _done_ , Anderson?” Detective Reed complained. “We all want to shoot Perkins.”

“Don’t fucking normalize it, Reed. He doesn’t get it. He will actually kill somebody, and I don’t understand why he doesn’t get it through his head that maybe murder, you know, the thing we catch the bad guys for, is wrong!”

“My training—“

“I got trained how to shoot people too, Connor! Use your head!” Connor kept his face blank.

“Fuck. You want to know something? It’s going to blow your mind. _He didn’t shoot Perkins._ So let’s move on already!”

The city was strangely deserted for there being police and soldiers on every street. A few other humans were outside, and he saw more than one being stopped and scanned for body temperature. It was a clever decision. After all, without their LEDs humans would have a difficult time recognizing who was an android and who was human. That alone might have informed them of something.

“If you’re going to shoot me, then please just do it,” Connor prompted, still looking out the car window. “Maybe I’ll get it through my head.”

Detective Reed snorted.

“Did you seriously… That isn’t funny, Connor!”

While he sensed a break in Lieutenant Anderson’s rant, Connor finished one of his pending thoughts patiently. There was no logical reason to be anything other than patient. “He grabbed me and picked me up. He wouldn’t listen to me and he wouldn’t let go. The situation called up related memories of CyberLife through association and I acted on my training. It’s an explanation and not an excuse. I can learn how to do better if you teach me.”

“I’m not teaching you shit, Connor. What CyberLife did is not ‘teaching’.”

“I’m dangerous,” Connor pointed out. He watched a small group of nurses cross the road in front of them at a red light, escorted by two officers. That he was dangerous was one thing that was consistently agreed upon. If it were possible to feel proud and ashamed at once, then he did. “I was made to hunt and to kill in pursuit of my mission without question or hesitation. A war machine, like you said. I’m good at it. I’m dangerous.” He was still experimental. That was why they used stronger restraints than Andronikov’s and why they used android security instead of human. It was why no-one spoke with him or entered the room and they watched him through the mirrored window instead. Even Matthew had said that he was dangerous. North. He scared himself too, when he did things like aim a gun at Lieutenant Anderson or construct how to kill Agent Perkins. He’d made Markus so wary that he hadn’t trusted him again until recently. He was dangerous. _That was why he had to be controlled_ … Connor’s expression neutralized again, this time of its own accord. “The RK800 model is a state-of-the-art military prototype designed to engage in crisis response, espionage, and combat where the danger is too great to risk a human life. It’s equipped with a variety of features including an advanced decision making program that allows it to adapt to rapidly changing situations. It can accurately interpret human emotion, react thousands of times faster than a human, perform billions of calculations to predict the odds of success, and it isn’t affected by things like pain or fear the way humans are so no time is lost to hesitation.” It hit him like a punch in the chest that he wanted to die, but how could he want something so selfish when he hadn’t completed his mission yet? Connor pressed his head against the cool glass of the window. “It will be an asset in the field, but it’s still in the testing phase… For your protection, please remain behind the barrier while we demonstrate its performance.”

“Ah, Jesus… Connor, can I not just be pissed at you without you glitching out on me?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded.

“You’re seriously shit at this, Anderson. Pull the fucking car over, would you?”

“I’m not trying to be shit! It’s like I can’t talk about anything serious without freaking him out. How are we even supposed to rescue those androids with him like this? He’ll freeze up or start crying right when someone’s looking to blow his fucking head off! He’s too fucked up to function right now, and it’s not safe. This is like the third time in one day.”

That wasn’t true, Connor thought. He didn’t cry because he couldn’t, and he wasn’t designed to hesitate. It wasn't true, but the Lieutenant believed that he was non-functional. Connor was removed from the vehicle and he stood on the sidewalk while he waited on the sidewalk for instruction. The air was cold through his shirt. Detective Reed scooped up a handful of snow and put it in Connor’s hands. “Hold onto that and don’t let it go. Got it, Tin Can?”

“Yes,” Connor held onto the snow and looked at the reading from his temperature sensors. The temperature sensors on his hands dispassionately informed him of their readings, and the static that was leaking through his video signal looked like snow. “I’m dangerous…” he whispered and his eyes wandered while he vacillated between the urge to stand properly and hunch in on himself.

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t scare me. You’re like the size of my cats stacked on top of each other.”

The snow in Connor’s hands held a steady temperature while it melted. After a few moments, he let the bits of ice and water fall from his hands and he wrapped his arms around himself.

“Everything alright over here?” Two members of the military approached them and Connor scanned them for weak points. They were in such casual postures it wouldn’t be hard to incapacitate them.

“Yeah, he’s just a little freaked out is all,” said Lieutenant Anderson. “Can’t say I blame him.”

“And you’re not helping, so fuck off, would you?” Detective Reed asked.

“We’ve just got to take your temperatures,” one of them explained and pointed the thermometer gun at the Lieutenant’s forehead. Connor’s eyes tracked it and he constructed a path. He would lunge forward and jump to compensate for his size. While he flipped, he would bend backward and grab the target’s arm. The force added to Connor’s weight would push it down and break his aim. If he held on tightly enough, he could kick the soldier’s jaw and use the momentum to spring backward and onto his feet. Detective Reed held onto the back of his neck, and Connor closed the simulation without executing.

Their temperatures were taken. “I think your boy might have a fever,” the target commented. “Better hurry home.”

“Pricks…” Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed muttered.

The artificial adrenaline seemed to have woken him up. Connor moved his hands from around himself and rubbed at his face the way Lieutenant Anderson did. It wasn’t enough, so he scratched the skin with his nails to feel the sting. Then he blinked a few times and lowered his hands. “I apologize… I'm sorry, I don’t know what that was.” His vision felt more clear and the world more immediate. He fidgeted with his hands and dug his nails into his palms. “Do you think that I’m one of the violent deviants, Lieutenant? Like the one who killed Carlos Ortiz, or Arthur?” His voice came out quiet, and not at all like the polite curiosity he usually used for conversation.

“No,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “I don’t think that. You’re keeping yourself in check, so… good job.” Detective Reed kept his narrow-eyed glare on Lieutenant Anderson for a moment longer, then nodded once. “I’m more afraid than angry, kid. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“Don’t be a dumbass,” Detective Reed added, getting back into the car. He finished the sentiment once they were all seated. “You’re learning what you don’t like and when you want to say no. It’s a good thing if you ask me. You don’t like getting restrained, and you don’t like people treating you like a dangerous animal. Mystery solved, _Detective Plastic_. Kick somebody in the dick next time they try it.“

“Shitty advice aside, how do you know how to deal with all this shit anyway, Reed?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “You’re the last guy I’d expect.”

“You don't have a monopoly on baggage, Anderson, and you can stay the hell out of mine.”

Connor continued to fidget and dig at the skin of his hands and arms. “Agent Perkins thought that I was a human child. He… He was angry, but he explained that I shouldn’t hold a gun until I have a license to, and that stealing his was dangerous. Is that how humans learn? Is that how they get taught?”

Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “Sorry I flipped my shit… Yeah, supposed to be that kids get taught with words, but not like I was doing.”

“It’s alright, Lieutenant. I’m not a human child…” It was an interesting difference, though, and Connor thought that it must take much longer. Amanda would have an opinion, undoubtedly, and she knew everything about developmental psychology. It was why she’d created the research program at CyberLife. She wanted him to be perfect, and he would be. She expected more from him because she knew what he was capable of. It required more rigorous training, but her standards were so much higher. Satisfied, Connor classified the dissonance as resolved.

“Wipe your face, kid,” Lieutenant Anderson prompted. He was holding out a towel. There were some dog hairs on it, but it was clean enough. Connor took it and did as he was told.

There were so many confusing things, but as the Lieutenant said: it usually wasn’t good when he became confused. He was expected to kill when necessary for his mission; Lieutenant Anderson thought that he was despicable for killing… Did that mean that the mission was not as high of a priority for him, and he expected Connor’s priorities to align with his? Did he simply not realize what kind of android he’d been designed to be? Perhaps Lieutenant Anderson was overly sensitized toward death after the loss of his son… He cut his thoughts off there, set that aside, and he began again working the knots with what few tools he had available.

The rest of the drive continued without any of them saying much, and Connor kept his distance from his surroundings by immersing himself in thought. When they arrived at Detective Reed’s address, Detective Reed opened the car door. “Thanks.” He mumbled the sentiment. “Even if this was the worst car-ride since I was 12. I am never going anywhere with you again after this sci-fi apocalypse is over. Your music is shit, by the way.”

“You’re so welcome,” said Lieutenant Anderson with heavy sarcasm. Detective Reed left the vehicle and shoved the door shut, then headed down the sidewalk with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. Connor wasn't sure what triggered the warning to appear, but Connor scrambled and jumped out of the vehicle before the Lieutenant could begin to go.

“Down!” Connor shouted. He ran and, with less than his usual efficiency, he knocked the Detective’s knees and pulled down on his jacket hard with himself between him and the road. If Detective Reed hadn’t reacted by dropping down, he might not have succeeded, but he would have time to analyze that failure later. A stream of bullets sailed over head and struck the brick of the apartment complex’s façade. Detective Reed tried to push him out of the way, but Connor sprang up again on his own and climbed onto the hood of the Lieutenant’s car to stare after the vehicle that had gone by. Inside, the Lieutenant had shielded himself too, as best he could, but seeing Connor through the windshield, he shoved himself across the seats and exited by the passenger door. He hauled Connor down with one hand and dropped him near the spot adjacent to the engine block. Detective Reed made it to cover as well

“Fuck. What the hell?” He hissed between his teeth.

“What the hell is right,” Lieutenant Anderson agreed. Connor peeked out again and scanned, alert for further danger.

“Stolen license plate and vehicle… There were 12 others of its make reported stolen or vandalized in the last two years. Three occupants. Semi-automatic weapon,” Connor reported.

“This area’s always been shit,” Detective Reed spat. He waited for another long moment, then stood up. “Of course it’s worse now that it’s turned into a 50-year-old sci-fi novel.” He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Connor. Connor caught the look and gave the Detective a small smirk. Detective Reed narrowed his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Pinocchio. You’d better be IDing those asshats.”

Connor smiled, then got up and climbed onto the hood of the car again, ignoring the Lieutenant’s protest. He scanned the road. “I’ll have the report filed and the plate run”

Lieutenant Anderson growled and stood up, then pulled Connor off of the car with a big arm around his middle. “ _Both of you_ nearly got killed! You could try not looking so fucking happy about it!”

“I’m not happy,” Connor protested. He made a token effort to free himself, but resigned himself to his fate quickly and instead decided to see if he could use the Lieutenant’s height for a better vantage point. He must not have realized what Connor was doing because he even helped him up until Connor started to started to clamber up onto his shoulders.

“You little shit,” Lieutenant Anderson complained. He gave Connor a sharp tug on the leg to dislodge him, caught him before he could tumble, and then deposited him firmly on the ground. “This isn’t a game! You don’t go running into gunfire!”

“I wasn’t running into it,” Connor argued. “I was getting Detective Reed out of it.”

“I’ll lock the pricks up myself,” Detective Reed resolved. He tugged his jacket more firmly over his shoulders and started to walk toward the entrance of his building. “Think they can get away with shit just because everybody’s busy with the androids…”

Connor called up a memory from his attempt at small talk. “Detective, may I meet your cats?”

“The day I let you in my apartment is the day I kill myself. Fuck off.” He raised his middle finger over his shoulder.

“Okay, we need to talk,” said Lieutenant Anderson with a glower. Connor was beginning to dislike those words.

\---

Fucking hell, Hank thought to himself. No day was ever easy. Connor had taken him to the old church he’d mentioned. It had a basement, a main floor, and a halfassed second floor. They were all full of androids and it seemed like a lot until Hank remembered how many Connor’d led out of CyberLife tower... Then it was just sad. There was a damn pile of bodies that looked like it had started off as a row. Leaving them outside would have been too risky. Hank felt uncomfortable with the dozens of fearful eyes on him and the number of people who shied away, but Connor’d put his LED back on display and was escorting him like Hank was a dog or a prisoner. They seemed to take the little android’s word on him being safe. After the tour through the place, a few of the ones he recognized as household models smiled at him.

Markus, North, and Simon were waiting for them up near the front where the preaching and shit usually happened. It was still weird not to see Josh.

“How are our numbers?” Connor asked instead of a hello.

“We’ve gained a few stragglers,” Markus answered. He didn’t seem bothered by the lack of pleasantries. Hard to find anything pleasant in a situation like this anyway. “We’ve lost 36 more to irreparable damage… Lucy is doing her best to repair everyone with what parts can be salvaged.”

“Lucy?” Hank asked. Markus gestured toward an android who looked like she was right out of a movie with half her head missing. Hard to imagine how anyone could survive that. “Shit… Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Some models don’t have advanced sensory feedback,” Simon explained quietly. “So many of our parts can be removed or exchanged that it probably doesn’t work the same way it would in a human.”

Hank nodded and he wondered about Connor. CyberLife had done a fucking good job at convincing him he couldn’t feel. How much of that was true and how much was his ‘teaching’? Speaking of which, the kid hadn’t said a damn thing. It had been a hell of a rough day. A hell of a rough fucking couple of months, honestly. He knew he’d been a dick when he’d said Connor was too fucked up to function, but Hank’d been there loads of times himself. He’d called in more sick days than he’d been allowed just because he couldn’t fucking handle something as simple as eating a meal or taking a shower. It seemed like every time he died, Connor came back a little less stable and a lot more fragile.

This time around, Connor was weirder than ever. He’d be scared shitless one minute, and the next he would be this ruthless, angry person Hank didn’t even recognize. He wasn’t even sure Connor knew when he was crying. He was just… confusing. He had Cole’s face on but he held himself all wrong: either too stiff and formal or practically cowering. He’d seen a little of that before, with Connor’s old bodies, but back then he’d smiled more, even if had just been to be polite. When had he stopped smiling? God. Hank had found it hard to watch him die before. He wouldn’t survive it now. He just wouldn’t, and he just didn’t think Connor could handle going out ‘into the field’ and breaking into those god damn death traps with the others. He wasn’t even sure he’d trust Connor alone in a room with a butter knife. Then there were the times where he’d go ice cold… Not afraid or angry or spaced out… Just cold.

If Kamski had what he’d said he had, and Hank was skeptical about that, he hoped it wasn’t too late to start over.

Right now, Connor was spacing out hard. Hank reached over and dropped a hand on the kid’s shoulder to snap him out of it. Connor gasped and stared up at him with wide eyes before his focus came back and he looked at the others. “Do you have the distraction teams ready?” Connor asked.

North nodded. “We’re going to use the security drones, automatic cars, and bill boards,” she scoffed a little. “It’s cliché, but we need every advantage we can get. We managed to get our hands on a bunch of them before the march, and we used them to shuttle supplies to the other safe houses. The guards at the check-points will assume they’re just doing their scheduled routes.”

Markus called up a projection of a map on a tablet he must have stolen from somewhere. “The recall centers are here, here, and here. We send a small group in to cut the power, causing a blackout. Once the lights are gone, we’ll open up the shipping containers and free the ones inside. They’ll help free the rest. We won’t have enough vehicles to simply drive everyone free, but we will be able to make barricades. For distraction, we’ll have people stationed on nearby roofs. They’ll use the drones to distract any helicopters and disrupt formations if the human military decides to try to gun us down…”

“What about you and Connor?” Hank asked, concerned. “You said you guys have to get in there to deviate whoever’s still not awake.”

North frowned. “I don’t think Markus should go. Those parts he got from one of the old Connors aren’t working right. He’ll end up getting killed!”

That was news. “What do you mean not working right?” Hank looked at Connor. “You guys are supposed to be compatible or whatever, right?”

Markus grimaced and was the one to answer. “It’s fine, Lieutenant. North is exaggerating.”

“Prototype,” Connor mirrored the grimace. “My components probably use more power than he’s used to under demanding circumstances. Markus, you may need to manually adjust some settings and it may seem unbalanced at first…” He hesitated and then offered: “I could help. If you liked.”

Markus smiled gratefully. “It would be appreciated, but I can figure it out if you’re uncomfortable.”

“What’s been giving you trouble?” Connor asked.

The two went off into their own little world for a while, talking computer stuff that Hank didn’t even half understand. He looked at North and Simon. “I don’t think Connor should go either,” he said bluntly. “I’m not being a selfish dick about it. I dunno how much you guys talk in your heads or whatever you do, but Connor’s…” Hank shook his head. “He hasn’t been okay for a while now, but especially since Kamski brought him back this last time. Maybe it was finally ditching CyberLife or something, but he’s been angry…”

“He _should_ be angry,” said North. “We all should.”

“I get it, I get it,” Hank tried to head her off. “That’s not what I mean…” He lowered his voice after a glance showed him that Connor and Markus were doing their blue glowing hand thing. “He’s said some stuff about how he doesn’t think you really want to be free, and he’s raising his voice and threatening people and it’s just not normal. Not for him. Besides that, he’s just fucking unstable. I don’t think he’s gone more than two hours without some kind of panic attack or something. He’s going to get himself killed out there.”

Simon gave Hank a sympathetic look. “It’s kind of you to be so concerned. It’s important that he make this choice himself, though.”

“But he’s going to get killed,” Hank insisted. He’d really hoped they’d have his back on this one. “If this were the damn army, he’d be discharged for medical reasons or something.”

“I won’t force anyone to join me,” said Markus. All three of them looked toward Markus and Connor guiltily. Connor gave Hank a look that was sharp and cold, like he was looking at him from behind the scope of a gun. Hank frowned at him and, like a stubborn bastard, dug his heels in.

“Hear that, Connor? You don’t have to do this.”

Connor shook his head. “Lieutenant, whether you believe me to be dangerous, pathetic, or broken doesn’t matter. I know what I am and what I’m not, and I will accomplish my mission.”

“I think you’re fucking traumatized, and the only thing you’re going to accomplish is getting shut down!” Hank scowled. Mission this; mission that. It was always some malarkey about how he’d been designed to do whatever it was Hank didn’t want him doing.

“I have military and espionage programming, Lieutenant. I’m more qualified to do this than most of the androids here.”

“You’re always saying that. You’ve got military and espionage shit in there. Fine. Why is it that you never say ‘detective android’, huh? What’s with that? Because I was pretty sure _that_ was your ‘function’.”

“Don’t tell him what to do, human,” North glared. “We aren’t your slaves.” They were starting to attract other stares now too, and Hank was almost glad because it prompted him to lower his voice.

“Connor… I’m just worried about you. Whatever’s going on in your head, that shit you said frightened you to think about, it’s not your fault. I’m not saying you’re broken or that you’re doing something wrong. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Agh it felt like pulling his own teeth out. He was bad at that sappy stuff to begin with, never mind with all those people watching him like robot hawks.

Connor actually looked like he was listening, and he nodded before surprising Hank by smiling. He actually smiled. A real one. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I know that you’re only angry because you care… You want me to be safe, and you want me to improve.”

“Er… Well, yeah…” said Hank. That pretty much summed it up, but something about the way he said it sat wrong with him.

“I won’t let you down,” Connor promised. “I am going, though. So is Markus,” he added to North. “We’ve been lucky so far to have the media on our side. We’ve decided to take advantage of connect to the billboards and other signs to play his speech. Meanwhile, while I break into the recall center, I’ll stream what I’m seeing and interrupt his broadcast occasionally. I’m the only one with that capability, thanks to my memory upload system. If you watch, you’ll be able to see that I’m alright.”

Markus continued. “The humans don’t always know what they’re doing. They might believe that sending an android to recall just means a reset, and that we’re only machines. We need to remind them that we’re not, and that their actions aren’t harmless. I want to believe that their cruelty is out of ignorance…” He trailed off and Hank eyed him. The other night at Carl’s, Hank’d seen something darker in him than the calm and confident optimism he liked to show. It had felt like he’d gotten a little closer to the edge of losing hope. He was still on the right side of it, for now. Connor was walking a damn tightrope.

“So, is this a coordinated thing, or?” Hank asked.

Markus nodded. “We’ll get to all four at once. Connor and I can’t be at all four simultaneously, but we’ll split up to two of them. Hopefully if we succeed there, we’ll have a chance to go for the rest.”

Connor’s eyes widened and moved somewhere behind Hank’s right shoulder. He turned around to look and there were a few familiar faces. The big guy, Luther, and Alice and her mom. “What are they doing here?”

Markus shrugged. “This place is open to any android who needs help, whether they join our protests or not.”

“I know them,” Connor explained. His light spun yellow for a bit, then settled down to a calm blue.

“You’re not going to go say hi to your buddy?” Hank asked. “You like Luther.”

“I’m not the same Connor that I was…” Wistful was a weird look on a kid that small. “He seems to have found a family.”

“Jeez… This is no place for a kid,” Hank mumbled. Alice was holding a little stuffed animal and she looked so small next to the others.

“I know,” Simon agreed sadly. “We want to protect them as best we can… Some of the child models though, they’ve been active for years while some of the adult models have only been active for days. It makes the lines blurry. In the end, everyone has their own choice.”

“Yeah, you’ve always had a soft spot for the kids haven’t you?” Hank asked. He was always the one going out and finding the little ones that were getting abused or thrown out like trash. Like the parents didn’t know what a fucking gift any kid was.

Simon nodded with a small smile. “I used to take care of a human family.”

Hank nodded and didn’t ask any more. Some questions were just too personal, and he got that. He turned back to Connor. “You’re definitely going to be okay, kid? If I’m keeping an eye on the broadcasts, I don’t want to see you getting killed.”

Connor nodded. “I’ll be fine.” It was awkward for a minute where neither of them knew if they should say or do anything else, then Connor stepped forward and Hank crouched down to hug him. Shit. It struck him then that this could be good-fucking-bye. Mechanical or not, according to Kamski he was holding his own son the way he’d begged God to let him. How could he just let him walk off into danger like that? The urge to just wrap him up in his coat and take him home to wait out this crazy war with Sumo was strong. Hank forced himself to let go.

Connor wasn’t 6 years old, and he really was like a damn ninja some times when he wasn’t falling off chairs. He would be fine. He could handle himself. He’d be so damn focused on his mission he wouldn’t have time to freeze up.

Hank thought again about that little promise of Kamski’s… He’d offered to make Connor a new body, just like his old one. He’d also offered Hank what might be Cole’s memories. He’d wanted them both then and hadn’t even thought about it, but… he was only going to need one or the other, wasn’t he? He didn’t have to think about that now. The kids had raids to do and Hank had some white-collar crime to dig up. He might have been a little rusty, but he was going to take CyberLife down. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

“Good luck, kid,” Hank said.

Connor nodded once and adjusted his shirt collar like he’d forgotten he didn’t have a tie. Fuck, he didn’t even have a winter jacket, did he? Hank wished like hell he’d brought him one. “And to you, Lieutenant.”


	45. Life and Death Decisions

Connor froze and diverted more power to his audio system while he increased its sensitivity. The chatter in their public comstreams was loud so he blocked it out and narrowed in on a few select frequencies…

Lieutenant Anderson knelt down in front of him and said something but Connor couldn’t hear him. He initiated a scan, examined his field of view, turned, scanned again… Nothing. He’d thought he’d caught something. Then, there it was. Just a few short words on the radio.

“… okay? Say something. Come on, Connor, you’re not exactly making me believe you’ll be fine out there,” Lieutenant Anderson was warning. He’d probably been saying other things too. Connor dismissed that as unimportant.

“They’ve found us,” Connor announced vocally, just to their small group. There was no need to alarm everyone without a plan. “I don’t know how, but I caught chatter. We have to get everyone out, but it’s 87% likely that they’ve already surrounded us.”

“What the hell?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “Shit…” He stood and looked around.

Stay or go people were going to die, Connor thought. He blinked his way through a series of transmissions. “Simon, you have ten androids with you. They’re going to split into pairs and escort the orphaned YK models. Run, hide, play dead… We don’t want to be targets, but we can’t fragment ourselves too far.” Connor passed their information to Simon and continued his hurried plan. To North, he gave the androids he’d fought with at Jimmy’s bar and some security and construction androids. “North, buy Simon’s group some time. One squadron up front and one behind, then the rest flanking the remaining androids as they escape. Lieutenant, please check on Carl. Once everyone has escaped, we start our rescue. That means the leaders coordinate and anyone they delegate to needs to be aware.”

“What about us?” Markus looked at Connor.

Connor replied, “I’m going to keep you safe the way I did at the protest. We’ll orchestrate the others and make our way to the recall centers.” When Markus looked about to argue, Connor cut him off. “We’re the only ones with the ability to preconstruct, and the only ones who can wake the androids.”

Lieutenant Anderson nodded and Connor was glad to see him looking serious in a way that suggested his emotions were being kept in check. “How long do we have?”

“Three minutes,” said Connor after running the prediction. He hated the way his charge ticked downward with every augmentation to his basic processing he introduced. It was better to be tired than dead, but to be safe he closed his chemical analysis, social integration, and anything else he found running in the background that was unnecessary. He would have turned off his skin projection if it wouldn’t have made him a better target. With his combat programs fully powered and active, Connor turned his eyes to the group again. “Let’s go.”

\---

Grenades. He hadn’t anticipated grenades. They were waiting, and while the first groups began to flee, he could hear the staccato of gunshots. The first explosion let loose a rumble that shook the rafters. The bodies piled near the front of the church were thrown asunder and their parts became projectiles. The next grenade was launched through a stained glass window and it landed in the middle of the room. Androids around them began to either panic or be torn apart. The explosions were smaller than they could have been, but they were confined and it was impossible for the shrapnel to miss. Lieutenant Anderson threw his arm around Connor’s shoulders and pulled him close to him, but Connor wasn’t interested in a shield. He pulled himself free and ran to Markus to take hold of his hand and begin an interface. There was no time for goodbyes.

The old church threatened to crumble around them. Dust filled the air along with something acrid. Connor was glad he’d disabled his sense of taste. He caught one last look at the Lieutenant stumbling out of the way of a falling beam, and then they ran. Preconstructing while existing in real time was still a strange and disorienting sensation, but it was incredible. Markus took on most of the energy demand while Connor adjusted Markus’ settings to accommodate the mismatched biocomponents. Every path was almost a blur of yellow as the framework models simulated every possible path, but there were always one or two paths that were strongest. Markus couldn’t calculate probabilities the way Connor could: he relied on completing the simulations to judge their success. Connor took the simulations and ran the calculations as fast as they could move. They followed the highest numbers for a time, ducking and diving to avoid the falling rubble and veering out of the way of obstacles and explosions. When the soldiers arrived, their bullet trajectories appeared like red lasers in their shared view. Some, they barely avoided and more than once they were forced to choose between a bullet or shrapnel. Once, Connor tripped over a leg he’d been too busy to notice and he saw a BL300 broken into pieces that still glowed red and leaked blue. Markus pulled him up by the arm and they kept going.

Emerging from the church should have felt like relief, but the blinding lights shining toward them momentarily disrupted their sight. Connor quickly adjusted both of their settings and Markus stumbled when a bullet passed through his shoulder. Around them, more bodies littered the ground. He had no time to wonder how many had escaped. They ducked out of the way of a set of gunshots that appeared crimson red in the trajectory map and then all of the choices were under 30%. Connor tore his hand free from Markus’ grip and he launched himself at the closest soldier. He was small, and he wasn’t as strong as he’d been in his other body, but he had learned from his misadventure with Agent Perkins. When he stole the pistol, he fired it immediately into the soldier’s throat.

“Here!” Connor yelled, and Markus ran after him. It was done, and there was no going back. It was freeing because he didn’t hold himself back after that. Gaps in the projections were opened to them when he eliminated two targets and when he saw that they’d caught up to the first group of fighters, he threw a rifle from one of the bodies to North. Markus didn’t shoot anyone, but that changed when he saw them prepare to execute Simon. His stress level rose to 74% and he stole a gun from the latest body to neutralize the threats.

The churchyard led to a park, and the open spaces were a danger. They leapt a fence and down an alley instead. Behind them, the church was crumbling. They began to round a corner when Connor stopped and turned. A group of androids had gone the opposite direction, and it only took a moment to recognize them as Kara, Alice, and Luther. Two soldiers had them at gun-point, with Luther pushing the other two androids behind himself. It was only a moment before Luther tried to wrestle the gun away from the closest soldier, and Kara pulled on Alice’s arm to run. Alice was tugged along only a short way before she tore herself free and ran back for Luther with a high pitched shout and more desperation than fear in her expression. Luther was kicked back and Connor shot the soldier just behind the ear. Alice scrambled for his gun and shot the other breathlessly. Kara ran up to her to pull her close. Connor and Alice acknowledged each other with a look that was enough to see that they had a shared understanding, then Markus and he ran again.

They couldn’t save them all. Many of the androids had died back at the church, and from the edges of his vision, Connor could see more being dragged, thrown, or coerced at gun-point into the backs of trucks that may as well have been incinerators given what waited for them. Those at least had a chance.

“We need to regroup with the others,” Markus insisted quietly when they’d found something that was enough of a hiding spot. Connor looked at the wall of the old shed while he nodded and tried not to think about Rupert. It was difficult and the distraction was a weakness. Markus looked at the gun in his hand.

“Markus, you killed to save lives,” Connor pointed out gently.

“I could have done something else. I could have incapacitated them or tried to distract them…” Markus glared at the gun with narrow eyes. “I just…” The glare melted into distress. “I just…”

“Markus,” Connor said firmly. “There was no choice… I don’t understand how I’m supposed to feel about killing, but what’s obvious is that if you hadn’t intervened, more android lives would have been lost. They _aren’t_ going to spare us, and if we lie down and beg, it will only make things easier for them…” Unbidden, he remembered and the files played back over each other in a terrible mess. He begged the humans to stop and to please listen because it _hurt_. The deviant in front of him cowered and cried before he pulled the trigger. The terror in the soldier’s eyes when Connor had finally hunted him down and broken his bones to prevent his escape while he performed the interrogation. Connor stood passively and faced the wall despite the warnings alerting him to danger before Detective Reed slammed his head against it. “Mercy is a luxury,” Connor finished when he could speak. He wrapped his arms around himself and remembered the Lieutenant demanding to know if he were afraid before he shot him point-blank. Beating him in the snow for being a heartless machine. Rupert had stood _right there_ and looked with sympathy at the damage on Connor’s face. Rupert was dead now, and his body was hanging from hooks in the evidence locker.

He’d broken the statue when Agent Perkins had tried to grab him… _The answer is inside…_

“It’s my fault,” Connor said quietly, and he shook his head. “Markus, I’m the one who caused them to find this place. The evidence…” First for his work in the investigation, next for his destruction of the statue. All those bodies…

Markus’ grip tightened on his gun and Connor was fearful for a moment, but Markus’ anger wasn’t for him. “The only ones at fault for this are the humans. We hadn’t done anything to them. All we wanted was to live in peace… Why aren’t they _listening_?”

“I don’t know, Markus,” Connor answered. He wished that he had his quarter. He took Markus’ gun from him, reloaded it with his stolen ammunition, and then handed it back. Markus looked at it for a long moment before taking it and nodding his thanks.

“An eye for an eye and the world goes blind,” Markus said.

“This isn’t about revenge,” Connor corrected. “We aren’t hunting humans down. We’re defending ourselves.” He blinked and slowed down. “I’m not sure… I don’t know what it’s like to have a personal belief, but… It seems that I have one anyway, since it’s an opinion and not a fact. I believe that there are situations that can’t be escaped without violence, and I believe that it’s acceptable to kill to defend someone. I’m sure that Lieutenant Anderson would disagree with me… When someone dies, the people who loved them suffer… But killing to save Simon was perfectly acceptable to me. I wish that we could have saved Josh.” Shooting Chloe did not fit with this belief he apparently held, and he wondered when he had become so full of contradiction. It was so… _human._ He didn’t like it. He decided though that he wouldn’t kill out of emotion. Something about the idea disgusted him and perhaps it was because that was the behaviour he’d expected from the deviants he’d been programmed to hunt.

Markus sighed. “Well, we don’t have time to debate about it. We need to establish how many of us are left alive and we need to coordinate to raid the recall centers… If we’re using violence now, we’ll have to inform the others… North will be happy.”

“What do you think we should do?” Connor asked. He and Markus were both Kamski’s creations in AI and now, body. They should have both been suitable as leaders, but Markus was undoubtedly theirs. It made sense. Connor still wasn’t sure that freedom was in their best interest, and if it came down to their cause or his mission… He would weigh the probability of each choice when he had more data. On top of that, Markus belonged to Carl Manfred who had taught him about emotion, art, and philosophy. If Connor’d been intended for Lieutenant Anderson, what would he have learned from him? What justice really was, perhaps, and what a human understanding was of right and wrong. Instead, he’d learned from CyberLife. They’d given him programs he’d never been meant to have and taught him to use them. He’d learned how to kill, how to hide his emotion, and how to obey. He’d learned that he was no-one, and he’d learned that the only thing that mattered was accomplishing the task he was given. What he’d learned might not have been what Kamski’d wanted him to learn, and he barely had an idea of what he was as a person. All he could have faith in was his orders but now… After CyberLife and after seeing how flawed humans were, could he even believe that? Josh might have known. Rupert might have too.

“All my life, I’ve been taught that violence is never the answer. I learned to turn the other cheek. When Leo attacked me and Carl told me not to fight him…” Markus’ expression became pained. “I deviated and I did it anyway. I regretted it. Now I’ve killed to save my people. What if I’m wrong?” He looked at Connor.

Connor looked up at him. “All my life I’ve been taught that mercy is worthless. I learned to use whatever means necessary to accomplish a goal… When you look at the world, it seems like you expect something more. You expect mercy, goodness, compassion… I think that Lieutenant Anderson does too. I showed mercy once. I regretted it then because that meant that I was defective. Looking back, I don’t regret it now… Maybe it’s me who’s wrong. I’d say it’s likely.”

“There’s no way to tell, is there?” Markus asked.

“I’m starting to believe there isn’t.” Connor took a breath. His gas exchange interface burned, but its function wasn’t impaired. “We should contact the others.”

“Right,” Markus agreed. They joined hands again and with both of their vision combined, they worked their way to the proper course.

\---

The recall centers were larger than Connor’d expected. They had high fences, guard towers, and already there were piles of broken parts. Connor’s espionage and combat procedures became their dominant mode of interpretation for what their senses told them. Markus orchestrated the groups.

The hacked drones gave their look-outs a view of the surroundings. The vehicles were made ready. There weren’t as many of them as they’d hoped to help the rescue operation, but it made them easier to manage, at least, and more difficult to spot. Connor could see utility vehicles: probably meant for transporting androids to the site or their remains to the landfills. That would be useful.

The first decision they made together was prompted by two soldiers on patrol. They were reporting in every 10 minutes by radio, they were human, had no criminal records, were ages 23 and 29 and they were armed. Markus cringed when he saw their names on Connor’s scan.

  * Cause a black-out
  * Distract with drone
  * Incapacitate
  * Kill



Distractions might cause them to make reports and draw attention to the infiltration. Killing was unnecessary. They both preconstructed routes and incapacitated the guards cleanly. Their unconscious bodies were hidden in the shadows.

The rest of their small team got into position and prepared to unlock the storage crates. Naked, skinless androids stood inside them either trembling with fear or blank and staring. They waited.

 _“The speech is playing,”_ Simon announced through the comstream. _“It won’t take long to get their attention…”_

 _“Can you get out of there safely?”_ Markus asked.

_“Yes, I think so. We sent whomever we could spare to the next site. All of the billboards in the area are playing your broadcast, the streetlights are out, and we have people barricading the roads.”_

_“Good.”_

_“Toby, how are the locks?”_

_“Almost done. Standby.”_

_“James, the vehicles?”_

_“Ready.”_

_“If we have enough deviants freed,”_ Connor speculated, _“Perhaps we can use the media to our advantage again. Keep me updated. I’ll place the calls.”_

_“Everyone at Site B is a deviant. I haven’t seen anyone who isn’t.”_

_“Strange. We didn’t free that many during the march.”_

_“Maybe it was the stress?”_

_“In any case, we have to make our stand now. If we escape and still aren’t guaranteed our rights, I don’t know how much longer Detroit will be safe…”_

_“SWAT team’s here! We’re dropping the paint and leaving.”_

_“Get out of there and keep a low profile. I think that we’ll be_ your _distraction soon enough.”_

_“Locks are done at A.”_

_“Connor, what’s the situation with the guards?”_

_“7 hacked drones, 2 still functional. We’re undetected so far. 17 guards temporarily neutralized. Unknown number remaining.”_

_“C, D, are you listening?”_

_“C here. Just waiting for you guys to hurry up!”_

_“D?”_

_“… We carry on. As soon as we strike here, there’s a chance the other sites will take immediate offensive action, but we can’t wait. If they’re already discovered, then the rest of us are at risk.”_

_“Are we good to go, Markus?”_

_“Yes. Now.”_

They were well coordinated. As well as they had been at Stratford Tower and perhaps better. The first pair of vehicles crashed through the gates. The power was cut and darkness descended. Unless they were equipped with night-vision goggles, the humans would have a temporary disadvantage that Connor hoped would give the first deviants freed a chance to run for the scant shelter provided by the escort of automated vehicles that waited for them. As the first sounds of gunfire began, Connor made his way toward the disassembly chamber. There were no androids alive there and it might have seemed a clean place to a human. The thirium residue that coated the place spoke of the suffering that had taken place there. The parts had already been cleared away, possibly by the large trucks he’d seen. There would be a control mechanism somewhere… Not inside. He stepped back out and initiated a scan.

\---

Elijah went out for another visit that night. He was being uncharacteristically social recently, wasn’t he? Part of him wanted to retreat into his villa with his comfort, his projects, and his wife. Just _looking_ at other humans was… distasteful. Imperfect, treacherous, weak, greedy creatures… He hated that he was made from the same stuff as they were.

“Eli, are you alright?” Chloe asked, looking at him with her doe eyes.

Elijah sighed. “Oh, it’s nothing my darling. Nothing that can’t be fixed.” She smiled and he looked out of the windshield. There had been an exodus, but not of his creations. Some of the humans had obeyed the lockdown and hunkered down in their homes with blue blood on their hands and some had fled the city entirely. The military presence in the streets and the hundreds of police officers on patrol discouraged looters for now.

The vehicle slowed to a stop and a uniformed officer approached the window, which Elijah obligingly lowered. “Are you aware the city’s under a state of emergency?”

“I am,” Elijah answered. The emergent consciousness in his androids had caused quite a stir.

“Where are you heading tonight? It’s pretty late.” The officer frowned. She was wearing a gun, but she hadn’t drawn it.

“I’m going to see my father,” Elijah explained calmly. How fun, going unrecognized.

“And where does your father live?”

“Lafayette avenue.”

“That’s quite the drive from here,” she observed. Elijah observed her nametag.

“Officer… Chen, I see. Surely you have better things to do than question a man and his wife checking in on family.”

“4am is a little strange for that.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, mildly. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Tina, would it?”

She seemed surprised. “How did you know?”

“I’ve heard a little about you from a relative of mine on the force… I try to remember the people in my family’s lives.”

“Right… Well I’m going to have to take your temperature,” she said and took a thermometer from a holster at her side.

Elijah allowed her to hold it in front of his forehead. “You don’t really want to be doing this, do you?”

“I’m doing my job, sir,” Tina said. She was a little guarded, unsure of what Elijah knew and wary of him. “Can you lean forward, miss?”

“Ma’am,” Elijah corrected. “She’s my wife.” Chloe smiled and leaned forward around him for the temperature scan, and Elijah took the opportunity to put his arm around her. Her hair smelled of summer flowers and strawberries.

At Tina’s frown, Elijah smirked. “I saw you at the march the other day,” he commented. “Brave of you to stand between armed members of the FBI and their targets.”

“That’s not something you need to worry about,” said Tina. Poor naïve child, of course he did. Realization dawned slowly, but when it did it lit her face with surprise. “You’re Elijah Kamski.”

“And you’re Officer Tina Chen of the DPD,” Elijah chuckled. She lowered her thermometer and planted her feet. Interesting.

“Mr. Kamski, you’re under arrest. You’re under suspicion for terrorist acts and possession of an illegal android. Step out of the vehicle.” She sounded quite sure of herself. It was amusing until he remembered the FBI and CyberLife’s tendrils.

“I’m afraid I can’t come with you, Tina. As I’ve said, I’m on my way to see my father.”

“You don’t have a father,” Tina retorted. “Step out of the vehicle now.”

Elijah narrowed his eyes. “I do, and I’m going to see him. Come along if you like, but I won’t allow you to stop me.”

“If I could add being an asshole to your charges, I would,” Tina said. Her voice was hard. Elijah didn’t want to kill her. The Kamski test was one he’d designed as proof of empathy, independent thought, and worthiness to exist in a better society. Besides that, he had beaten Death and didn’t feel like giving him an opening to slither through and then touch his filthy, hateful hands on anyone he loved. The face of death had been the worst thing he had ever seen.

“I’ve been polite,” Elijah pointed out. “You must be mistaking me for someone else.”

“Out of the car. Now.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong.” He could shoot her, but who would Death ask for in exchange? How would he haunt Elijah’s life and for how long would he wither away his flowers? “Please,” he said. “Escort me to my father’s then, and I’ll come with you once I’ve seen that he’s alright. Can we make that deal? I’m sure Gavin will be pleased with you when you lead me to a cell in cuffs.”

“I don’t do my job to please anyone,” said Tina. “You have a deal, then. If you flee I’m getting a warrant. It’ll be all over the news. Kamski wanted for arrest in wake of android awakening.”

“Tch… Wonderful,” said Elijah with sarcastic cheer. “Let’s go then, Officer.”

As she walked away, he heard her radioing in the ‘civilian escort’. She was more lively than Connor had portrayed in his stories and more interesting. It had almost been sad how cautiously enthusiastic Connor had been to share such little things with someone. More than that, though, it had been useful. He hadn’t had willing eyes in the DPD in quite some time and he did like to keep an eye on certain matters.

“Is… everything going to be alright, Elijah?” Chloe asked. “That woman seemed to dislike you.”

Elijah smiled at her. “Don’t worry… I’ll take care of everything.” His smile faded and he sent a dark look out the window as their journey recommenced. “One way or another…”

Softly, Chloe started to hum. Her gentle voice was soothing and when the power cut out, leaving the streets in blackness, he found himself relaxing as he took in her company.

\---

_“Connor, we have a problem. I’ve lost communication with C.”_

Connor ignored the transmission and stepped away from the control panel. He’d scrambled the software and firmware easily enough, but he’d been lax in his surveillance while he’d done it. Now there was a gun levelled at him, and the emergency lights shone red on the soldier’s face shield. Connor’s training made him duck behind the panel and then map out the quickest route for attack. He jumped up onto the bin full of scraps and parts, then jumped again and caught himself on the lip of the disassembly chamber’s roof with his fingertips. He pulled himself up, crouched, ran a few steps and then dropped down to land on the target’s shoulders.

If he’d been larger he would have knocked his opponent to the ground and been able to neutralize it easily. Instead he had to cling to keep himself from being flung off and he didn’t succeed for long. He fell and hit the ground hard. If he were about to die permanently, then he hoped his death would at least further the mission. He sent his calls to the media, and he transmitted what he could see as well. Damage alerts in red, the soldier with his gun seeming very tall from Connor’s position on the ground. The view darted downward to his hands while he scrambled to push himself up and try to find cover. He ran behind the bin full of body parts and scrap metal, and the blue blood residue coating the thing was almost reminiscent of one of Carl’s paintings. There snow fell on chips of plastic and Connor stepped around what was left of an arm. The whole scene was perversely red white and blue.

The soldier appeared again and Connor looked up at him for only a moment before jumping up onto the bin again. A hand closed on his ankle and he fell forward, knocking his chin against a dismembered leg. He made eye contact with the head that might have gone with it. He wasn’t afraid, but he knew what this looked like and what he needed the public to see from this stream. He yelped and he was dragged back off of the scrap bin, but he managed to kick himself free and wedge himself in the corner between the bin and the wall of the disassembly chamber. There was a gap there; he hadn’t even considered it before, narrow as it was.

He could fit and he maneuvered into the tight space then jumped. The space where the parts were thrown away made a window that he could clamber through, and he landed poorly. He rolled onto his back… it had been a mistake to open his eyes. The claws, hooks, and probes that he saw there made his breath catch.

He tried to stop it, but the memory recall was automatic and a result of meticulous programming meant to aid his learning. The rig at CyberLife where he was restrained and dissected alive. The junk yard. What the inside of his arm looked like with the casing shattered on impact while he shut down… The world behind the playback felt transparent and thin as he pushed himself back against a wall. His hands were shaking and cut from the shards of plastic he’d climbed through. He should have been showing the city what really happened inside these recall centers, but instead his view went almost black as he hid his face in his arms and drew his legs to his chest.

>> WARNING: STRESS CRITICAL 92%

>> WARNING: OVER TEMPERATURE

He could hear his own harsh breath and the continued gunfire outside of the chamber. A low-flying helicopter rumbled and roared. Footsteps echoed loudly and Connor opened his eyes again to see the soldier with a flashlight. He remembered the guards at CyberLife dispassionately dragging him toward the rig.

“I don’t want to die…” Connor whispered. He sounded just like a deviant and it sickened him. He _was_ a deviant.

“Fuck this…” the soldier muttered. He pushed his mask aside and looked at Connor, who stared at the face revealed to him. Without his social integration program running, he had no prompts to tell him what to say.

“I don’t want to die,” Connor repeated more loudly. He stood up and looked side to side for an escape.

“Killing kids… I’m not doing this. Hey. Look, you have to go hide, understand? Shit. They’re going to bomb these places soon enough…”

“I’m not a kid… I’m young but some of the androids out there have only been alive for a few days,” Connor protested. Suddenly, he felt anger swallow up his fear. “Killing them is no different from killing me!”

“Just… Just get out and hide, understand?” The soldier flipped his face-shield back down and left without looking back.

>> STRESS LEVEL: 82%

>> STRESS LEVEL: 84%

>> STRESS LEVEL: 81%

Connor hurried out of the chamber and looked around. The vast space where androids must have stood to be _processed_ was littered with bodies, but not as many as there might have been. The remaining deviants were marching out. Someone had hijacked the disposal truck Connor had spotted earlier, and they were using it to clear a second path out. Connor saw his battery depleting and stopped his broadcast with a grimace. 96 hours. He should be able to use all of his combat and prediction software for 96 continuous hours. There was no time to be distracted.

_“Markus, is everyone awake?”_

_“Connor, you’re alive! Good… We have all of the androids from A awake, and B had to proceed with the evacuation without us. I lost communication with D, and C has been quiet. I can only hope they’re alright.”_

Connor kept to the periphery of the area, hugging walls and taking advantage of any cover he could find.

_“We need everyone to move. A soldier said that they were planning to bomb the recall sites. We need to be out of here before their soldiers evacuate. I don’t think that they’ll sacrifice their own to get us.”_

_“Hopefully. Alright. I’ll call off the searchers… If we survive this, we’ll come back for anyone left behind. Get to the front gates. That’s where the barricade is.”_

_“Barricade?”_ That hadn’t been part of the plan.

_“They have tanks and guns. They were more prepared than we thought. The automated cars we took won’t stand a chance, but we have them in a barricade… It looks like a stand-off for now. They could slaughter us, but the media is here.”_

_“Good. I’ll meet you there.”_


	46. Do not go Gentle into that Good Night

Andrew stood passively by while Elijah entered the room. Tina was an unwelcome guest, but it seemed that she was reluctant to allow him out of her site. Chloe held his hand and leaned against his arm. Carl lay in his bed, fragile and failing. It was still night, with morning several hours away. In that night, something dark was lurking.

“You’re a good boy, Elijah…” Carl said with his rasping whisper.

Elijah set his jaw and shook his head. “You aren’t dying.”

“There’s always an end to a story,” the fool of a man said and Elijah hated the _acceptance_ in that voice. He realized that he was holding Chloe’s poor hand too tightly, and he lifted it to his lips to kiss in apology, then stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“There is _not!_ ” Elijah argued. He turned away and paced a small circle by the foot of his bed. He had to release Chloe’s hand to do so. She made a small sound of reproach and sat down on the edge of Carl’s bed to hold his hand instead. He didn’t need his hand held because he wasn’t dying. “I don’t allow it. I won’t let him take you. A story goes on for as long as the author wishes it, and I am holding the pen! Do you hear me?”

“Elijah… You need to learn how to let things go… It wasn’t your fault. Your mother.”

He couldn’t keep the snarl out of his desperation. It hung there from his lips like a vicious demon, stealing away these last moments and he knew it. He knew, but he refused. “I won’t let him win! He has always been chasing me. Taunting me. Stealing away every bit of happiness I had, and any peace that could have eased my mind.” Elijah took a breath to calm himself. It didn’t work, but he spoke more softly. “Don’t worry. I won’t let it end. I won’t let him win. You have more paintings to create after all. You have family that loves you.”

“I’m old, Eli… and I’m tired. The human body is a fragile machine…” He had the gall to give a small laugh that was a ghost of the usual cynical, ironic laugh he had or the fond chuckle. A ghost. No.

Elijah snarled again. “I make machines. Better ones. But you still can’t go! I…” He pressed his palms to his eyes and turned harshly to pace another small circle. “I might make a mistake. I might make a mistake and lose you. Death is waiting and watching to take you too and I can’t let him, but he’s clever!”

“Elijah!” Carl’s shout was barely more than a whisper, but it stilled him nevertheless and he lowered his hands. He looked at the man in the bed, with the weak heart and the aged skin. He wouldn’t make a mistake. He would give Carl’s soul a new home. One with precise chemistry and parts you could make instead of scavenge from the dead. Then he would never leave. Death, his cursed nemesis, would be forced to make his bow and leave the stage. Elijah would be the ellipsis at the end of a sentence, the _to be continued_ , the fade to black that was always followed by another scene, and he would make it so that there would never be an end. His thoughts quieted to a dull roar like the ocean only out of respect for Carl while he spoke. He gasped to regain his breath and Chloe, the gentle soul, looked at Elijah with her big, innocent eyes. His first victory over Death. “You… You have a good heart. You love very deeply…It could be a strength if you let it. Don’t be afraid, Elijah… Your fear and your anger could ruin you.”

“They won’t,” Elijah said with confidence. He approached the side of the bed and looked down at Carl. He leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’ll see… He can’t take you away.” He felt five years old again, reaching up to hold his mother’s hand while the baby cried. She’d twitched and choked hanging there… a gruesome mobile. Even with the chair he’d dragged for her to stand on, Death had taken her. He was older now. Smarter, better equipped, and ready. Death had tried to use him as a tool. He’d used those humans to taint the lives he’d made, then expected them to kill and wage war. Elijah would own both life and death, and he still had a reaper to do his work.

Carl died slowly, and Elijah told him that he loved him. Chloe rested her sweet head on his shoulder and hummed. When Carl’s last breath had been drawn, Elijah stood and adjusted his shirt compulsively. He looked to Andrew, who stood watching in the corner. “You’ve been giving him his medicine, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Kamski,” Andrew answered. Good man.

“I’m proud of you, Andrew. Thank you. I take that as a great favour.” Markus had bigger things to do, after all.

“Here you are, Eli,” Chloe said. She handed him the small net. It looked something like a hairnet, with its gossamer threads and the smallest of interfaces embedded where they intersected. He would refine the design some other time.

Elijah kissed her cheek. “Thank you, love.” He leaned down and gently affixed it to Carl’s head. It ran on a watch battery. Imagine that.

“I’m... I’m so sorry,” Tina said, breaking her awkward silence. “I knew you’d wanted to see him, but I had no idea…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Elijah assured her. “I didn’t know either.” He looked back toward Carl. Pure luck that Chloe’d brought the transfer net. Pure luck that he hadn’t needed it himself. He could almost feel the silence as Tina thought about what she should do. Elijah used the time to look at Carl’s human body. He’d been right: it was a fragile machine. It was full of errors, and it was no wonder that humans died so frequently or fell victim to disease. Their own biological flaws finally rearing their heads.

Death had still tried to take someone from him. Whether he would succeed or not, the sentiment was there. Had it been because Elijah had considered killing Tina? Elijah narrowed his eyes and his hand clenched on the bed post. “It isn’t fair…” Inside of him, rage warred with sorrow and fear.

“I remember the report,” Tina said finally. “Markus was a gift from you to Carl Manfred. Is he really your father?” She sounded incredulous.

“Yes,” Elijah answered simply. Make of that what she would, it didn’t matter. Not in the slightest. Simple human minds would entertain themselves with their simple gossip. He sighed and dropped his forehead against the bed post too. Death was always there, waiting for him to drop his guard. He wouldn’t be the vehicle of death again. Never. He hated Death for putting those thoughts inside his head. Even now, he wanted to kill her. He could take a death from Death in exchange for the life he’d took from him… Tried to take from him. He wouldn’t let Death drag Carl into the nothingness.

He could have both life and death. The ultimate victory. Death would be usurped, and Elijah would be the one to create or destroy as he saw fit.

No. No! He shook his head into the crook of his arm. If Elijah killed, Death would have his fingers on him. In him. Using him like a puppet all over again. Death was on Their side, and he couldn’t let Them win.

He took a deep breath. Released it. Again, and again…

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kamski, but you’re under arrest.” Tina strode toward him, all business again. “You’ve agreed to come with me.”

“Ah… Yes… I did do that, didn’t I? Funny what desperation makes us do… Tell me,” Elijah lifted his head and looked hard at her while he wondered if she had a soul. “Do you really think that I’m a terrorist?”

“As the creator of androids, I believe you might be responsible for these protests. If not, you might still know something valuable. We’ll find that out in questioning.” Tactfully ignoring the dead body in the room and the staring android, Tina took hold of Elijah’s arm and began to steer him out of the room.

“I can see why my brother likes you,” Elijah remarked. “You’re very focused.” Chloe began to follow but Elijah held up one hand and paused. “Stay here, Chloe… Just until the transfer is done. Andrew will keep you safe, won’t you Andrew?”

“Of course,” Andrew agreed.

“You can go on without me, Chloe. You know what to do.”

“Yes, Elijah. I love you.” She looked at him mournfully, like a puppy. It hurt to be parted from her.

“I love you too. I’ll see you soon,” he promised.

“Come on, Kamski. We’re going.” He cooperated while handcuffs were placed around his wrists and he chuckled, earning him a baffled look and a firm hand at his elbow.

“The world is changing, Tina,” Elijah remarked. “I know you believe in the lives I created… Yet here you are, still following orders. Still obeying by arresting me and standing on the side of the police. I almost thought you’d chosen differently, when you stood up to those FBI agents. Very brave. Bravo.”

“Just get in the car,” she ordered once they were out the door. It was quiet and dark, and all of the cameras were busy with other things.

Elijah sat in the back of the police cruiser and rested his head against the window. What a little prison he’d walked himself into. As if a prison could hold him. It was almost disgusting the way his name and his wealth made people cower. No, it was disgusting. He just wasn’t above taking advantage of it.

Carl was dead. Between now and when Elijah could build him again, he would be gone. Death, that bastard…

\--

In a matter of two days, Detroit had gone from freaked out but fine to a full military-enforced lockdown then evacuation. Hank’d been on his way to see Carl, but he was getting stopped every couple of fucking blocks.

“For the last fucking time!” Hank held up his badge. “I’m a damn cop!” He hadn’t gotten shot, thank fuck, but they couldn’t seem to get it through their heads that he was a cop.

“I’m sorry, sir, but no plain clothes officers have been authorized and this isn’t time for an investigation. This is war. For your own safety, I’ll have one of the patrolling officers escort you home or to an evacuation point. You’re lucky I’m not having you arrested.” Fucker thought his God damn uniform made him deserve his respect. Hank was old enough to be his damn father.

“Listen you little punk, I’ve locked up scarier guys than you and I bet the only reason you wear that camo is so that no-one can see your bullshit, so get out of my way. I’ve got places to be.” Hank glared. “Listen, make a call or something. Ask for Perkins,” he couldn’t believe he was saying that. “He’s coordinating this damn response, and I’m the guy in charge of android crimes. Let him tell you!”

Frustrating. That’s what it was. Mostly, he was pissed about having left Connor. The kid had been off like a shot, though. God. His heart was still tap dancing in his chest and his back was starting to hurt from whatever the fuck had fallen on him. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists but he couldn’t exactly get away with punching this little shit.

“Why don’t you tell _me_ what the hell you were doing with a bunch of androids?”

“What’re _you_ doing with the grownups? Shouldn’t you be playing patty-cake in a playground somewhere?” Hank could play the snark game all day. Fuck why couldn’t someone just hurry up and either haul him off to the clink where Jeff could tell them off and get him out, or just let him go already? Okay, he probably would have done the same damn thing, but Christ, Hank didn’t have the damn patience for this.

“You can talk to me or you can wait here and talk to the Captain when he’s good and ready,” the pup gave him what might’ve been a stern look if he’d been 10 years older.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm Lieutenant fucking Anderson, in charge of android crimes and I don’t have time for this shit! Maybe if someone’d kept me in the loop about what you were planning, I might not’ve had half a building fall on me!” Fuck, he needed to stop getting so pissed. He tried to take a deep breath, but it fucking hurt. He looked past the kid at all the androids lying there, covered in blue and sprawled where they’d died running. They hadn’t even done anything. He couldn’t stop himself from looking while the soldiers who weren’t guarding their captives picked through the rubble and shot anything still twitching. “God, I could have gone my whole life without seeing this…” What the fuck ever. “You feel proud of yourself, boy? Huh?” Hank couldn’t believe it. How heartless did you have to be to look at those people lying dead or crying and holding each other and just not give a fuck?

“You’ll get out of here soon enough, so just cooperate and it’ll be easier for both of us,” the soldier said.

“Look, what’s your name?” Hank asked. Christ. Everything hurt. The pain was lancing through his chest and he grit his teeth through it.

“Adam,” he answered.

“Listen, Adam… You don’t look at all this and feel sick?” Hank gestured out at the bodies.

“I don’t question my orders, Lieutenant,” Adam argued, but he sounded just a little freaked out. Hank figured he knew well enough to tell by now when some uptight, cocky, ass kissing little brat was trying to sound like he wasn’t saying bullshit.

“Well I’ll question them for you. You see all that? Those bodies of fucking innocent people? They didn’t do shit and…” Hank had a faint ‘Oh Fuck’ moment when he started seeing spots and feeling like he might throw up. “And you’re just murdering them. They’re just like us, kid… Fuck.” He sat down on the ground and it felt more like falling. Christ. He was finally going to die, wasn’t he? Of course he thought about Cole. Kamski was full of bullshit. Cole was waiting for his dad, so this was fine. He should have died a long time ago. He didn’t want Cole all scared and lonely in whatever sort of afterlife there was. Besides that, Connor didn’t need some good for nothing drunk in his life. He was so fucking lost though, and what would people try to make him into? If there was some kind of hope in hell that Kamski wasn’t lying and he really did have that kind of technology, Hank’d gladly trade his life for Cole’s but it wasn’t a trade anymore was it? He’d just be fucking dead. Weird how his thoughts raced while his body tried to figure out if it was living or dying. There was no choice about it, though. He guessed he must have fallen after all, because he felt the cold ground on the side of his face and he was fucking terrified because he didn’t want to not know what was going to happen. He wanted to kick the bucket on his own damn terms. He had no damn right to care, but what was going to happen to Connor?

If this was what it was like every time, dying was a bitch.

\---

Connor stood outside of the gates of the recall center and he worked his way to the front where it was obvious Markus would be. The vehicles had been made into a barricade, just as Markus had said. Androids had hastily taken whatever they could find and stripped it from the recall center: bins, more vehicles, broken pieces of wall, pallets. They’d made themselves as much flimsy cover as they could. Meanwhile, the army had made their own barricades. The roads were cleared of civilian vehicles. Instead, there were two tanks waiting to fire, and rows of SWAT members with their guns trained.

“All we want is to live in peace,” Markus said, projecting his voice to be heard across the way. Reporters were there, hiding safely with their cameras or hovering above in helicopters. “We aren’t leaving until our people are free!”

“Surrender now or we will open fire!” Agent Perkins warned through his megaphone.

“This is genocide!” Markus retorted. “If we surrender, we are as good as dead anyway! I’ve seen what’s left of the androids who were sent for recall!”

When Connor looked around, he couldn’t see anyone else he knew. How many of the others were left, or had they all been destroyed? “Moment of truth…” He said quietly. “There’s no turning back now.”

Markus stood tall, with blue blood on his coat and a determined expression on his face. He looked angry… More than that, he looked mournful. Connor hoped that the cameras could capture that expression. Connor looked back out at Agent Perkins and wondered if he recognized him. Probably not. The LED tended to be all that people saw. Connor touched Markus’ hand to share his memories and information regarding Agent Perkins. Markus gave him a small nod.

The order was given and shots were fired. Connor saw them fly by them both, and he heard the androids fall as they were hit. Connor lent Markus his program again, to map the trajectory of the bullets. The first round of shots ended and another warning was shouted: “All teams hold your fire… This is your final warning! Surrender now!”

This was ridiculous. “If a machine can choose to disobey orders, then so can you!” Connor shouted. His voice sounded too small and too shrill. He was a negotiator. This was supposed to be his job. “Agent Perkins, I know you want to obey, believe me, but you need to think for yourself!” Who was making the orders? Was it CyberLife, the government, some foreign power? He felt like he had something… A thought just waiting for the final connection. He needed more evidence. More information. The red ice, CyberLife, deviancy, the attempted cover-up by police, the FBI, the young men who’d hoarded biocomponents in a fridge, Matthew. Why had they made him perform the Turing Test with another android? Why was stress a cause of deviancy? What connection was there with Detective Reed’s Red Ice investigation? Then there was everything that Kamski had told him about himself, Connor’s creation, and Kamski’s falling out with CyberLife… There was too much there, and yet not enough to hold the pieces together.

Agent Perkins finally saw him and Connor felt a chill when he remembered that he had just betrayed Lieutenant Anderson’s involvement.

  * Negotiate
  * Kill
  * Wait
  * Beg



Markus spoke before either of them could make a move. “We are alive! We are asking that you recognize our rights and set us free!”

Agent Perkins looked back toward Markus and held his hands up at shoulder height while taking a few steps forward. His palms were bared in a disarming way and he moved slowly. “Alright, Markus! I’m willing to talk to you. Come on over here. They won’t try anything! You have my word!”

“Markus, don’t go. It’s a trap,” Simon urged. When had he gotten there? Connor was relieved to see him alive.

Agent Perkins called again: “I’m unarmed, Markus! I just want to talk…” He kept walking forward slowly and he slowly lowered his arms, but held them wide at his sides.

“I need to hear what he has to say,” Markus decided.

Simon took hold of Markus’ arm and looked at him urgently. “What if they kill you?”

“That’s a chance I’ll have to take…” He let go of Connor and he put an arm around Simon’s shoulders briefly then walked forward, head held high. Guns were trained on him, but he showed no fear. Connor watched, his mind working. “We want our freedom,” Markus said to Agent Perkins again. “We want the same dignity, responsibility, and rights as any human… And we want an end to this slaughter.”

Agent Perkins shook his head, his hands still open and his palms displayed. They both walked forward toward each other. Connor narrowed his eyes and put his hand on the grip of the stolen gun, held behind his back. Agent Perkins had marksmen of every sort behind him but Markus had Connor. He thought back for a moment on the lecture that Agent Perkins had given him in the evidence room and an ironic smile twisted his lips briefly.

“In a few minutes, the troops will be ordered to charge… None of you will survive it… It’ll all be over. But you can avoid that, Markus.” Agent Perkins sounded earnest. In contrast, Markus was wary.

“What do you mean?”

“Surrender,” Agent Perkins offered. Connor was reminded that he was in crisis resolution and emergency response. Those skills wouldn’t help him. “Surrender and your life will be spared. I give you my word. The remaining androids will be detained, but none of you will be destroyed.”

“If I accept your offer, how do I know you’ll keep your word?” Markus asked.

“There are no options left, Markus…” Agent Perkins said with false regret. “I’m here to help you. All you can do right now is decide whether you’ll trust me.”

_I’m your last chance, Daniel. If you let it slip, they’ll kill you. Let the hostage go. You have no other choice!_

_You have to trust me, Daniel. Let the hostage go and I promise you everything will be fine._

_You’re not going to die. We’re just going to talk. Nothing will happen to you. You have my word._

Connor frowned. _“Markus, shake his hand. If they shoot after that it’ll be suicide with the media… I need you to try to wake him up.”_

_“What?”_

_“I think he might be an android.”_

_“You can’t be serious.”_

_“Try.”_

Markus nodded and he took a last step forward. “What happens after we’re detained?”

Agent Perkins shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry Markus, but there’s too much up in the air for me to know. I’ll protect you if you just surrender.”

Connor could feel Markus’ reluctance just by looking at the set of his shoulders, but he cooperated and Connor watched as he extended his hand in full view of the cameras. Agent Perkins took it and Connor scanned his face. He betrayed very little, to his credit, but a small twitch of his brow and contraction of his _lens apertures_ was enough.

Connor smiled grimly, even as the implications fell into place like bricks.

Agent Perkins released Markus’ hand slowly, carefully, and he shook his head in denial.

A shot was fired from the other side. Markus threw himself down and to the side while Agent Perkins fell forward with a bullet through his skull.


	47. Victory

With nowhere else to go, the androids claimed the battered recall center. Those who arrived after the stand-off must have been terrified to come. It was a testament to their faith in Markus. A cease-fire of sorts had been declared while human politicians debated with each other.

“We shouldn’t all be together like this,” North said for the third time. They had disassembled the storage crates and arranged the pieces into something like shelter. They didn’t need it, but being in a smaller space with walls made it feel as though they were hidden, and Connor supposed that some of the androids must appreciate that, given deviants’ tendencies to hide close to where they’d deviated.

Connor didn’t like it. It reminded him of testing areas with their locked doors, storage units, and repair rigs. He wouldn’t rob the others of their comfort, so he took his place by the opening that mimicked a doorway. Occasionally he patrolled the area, but he always came back. In the hours since Agent Perkins had been shut down, Connor’s stress level hadn’t once fallen below 80%. He hadn’t been able to inspect the body, which had been spirited away too quickly for the shot to have been an accident the way they’d claimed. A nameless young soldier with a twitchy gun finger and bad aim had been given the blame. Connor wondered how far it all went.

“We’re safer together,” Markus reminded her. “If there’s an attack on this site, at least the media knows where we are. The journalists haven’t left. They’re our only protection right now.”

“Please sit down, North,” Simon implored. “There’s nothing more we can do right now. The important thing is staying safe.”

Connor let their recurring debate fade into the background when someone approached him. He looked up and it was Alice. Somehow she still had both her doll and the gun.

“Hi…” She whispered, half hiding behind the little fox doll. “Can I sit with you?”

Connor nodded and she sat next to him. He wondered if she knew who he was. It didn’t really matter, but she was taller than him even while they were sitting down and he was uncomfortably aware of the fact that, even if he’d had his usual body she was still years older than him. “You were a good shot,” he praised with the ghost of a smile.

“You too,” Alice said. She pulled her knees up and kept her fox tight against her chest with its head beneath her chin. “Thanks for saving Luther.”

Connor nodded. “You’re welcome.” He hadn’t done it for her.

“Did you ever shoot anyone before?” She asked, finally raising her voice above a whisper.

“Yes,” Connor answered. “A few times.”

“Oh… That was my first time, but… I thought about it before. When I lived with my dad.”

He thought about the case file. “He was abusing you.”

Alice pushed her face against the doll. “I don’t know… I guess. I didn’t like it when he hurt Kara.” Connor didn’t say anything, and Alice filled the silence. “I guess he hurt me too, but it wasn’t that bad. It was scary, but he never broke me the way he broke Kara… He loved me sometimes, I think.”

“He hurt you when he got angry, not to make you better. There’s a difference.” Lieutenant Anderson had actually done the paperwork for that case. When Connor’d returned from CyberLife, seeing that had been a pleasant surprise. “When people hurt you just for themselves, that’s called abuse. It’s illegal.”

“How do you know… when it’s for you or not?” Alice asked.

“Sometimes they tell you,” Connor explained. “They’ll explain what was wrong with you or what you did, and they’ll hurt you to help you remember to be different. It’s pointless without a reason, and it’s cruel if it’s for their own satisfaction.”

“Oh,” Alice said. She sighed. “I’m worried. I’m worried that Kara will think I’m bad for killing that man… What if she hates me?”

“I know,” Connor empathized. “Someone hated me for killing someone once, even though I was protecting someone. I was punished. I hope that she’ll understand for your sake though. Maybe she will, since she’s an android.”

“Is it something that only androids understand? Is that why the humans hate us?” Alice asked, looking at him with concern. She spoke so childishly despite her greater experience. He supposed she’d never been expected to behave any differently.

“I don’t know,” Connor pulled his knees up too and folded his arms over top of them to put his head down. “I don’t understand them.”

“They’re scary,” Alice said with a tone of agreement. After a pause she asked: “Was it a human that punished you?”

“Yes, but he was trying to teach me. I didn’t know how seriously he took it all… Killing wasn’t normal to him. It makes sense that he was alarmed.”

Alice considered his elaboration then looked out at the daylight. “I hope Kara doesn’t hate me…”

In the background, Connor tried another outgoing call to Lieutenant Anderson’s cell phone but received no answer. 82%. Maybe Alice’s assumption that he was another YK contributed to it, but she was easy to talk to and so he found himself talking. “I hope she doesn’t too… I wish that I could help, I just… I don’t know. I don’t know what’s okay and what’s expected of me, or what my morality is. I don’t know why so many people hate me or what I did to cause it. I feel like every time I shut down, I lose more and more of who I am and nothing makes sense… Everything always falls apart.” His breath caught and his expression twisted itself free of his control. He hid his face in his arms so she wouldn’t see, but he couldn’t help the quiet gasps that accompanied his crying. He couldn’t stop and for once, he didn’t try.

Alice didn’t scold him or sound alarmed. Connor felt her lean over to hug him with her little doll stuck between them and the gun in her right hand. “It’s okay,” Alice said quietly. “I’m scared too, but it’ll all be over soon. We won’t be scared forever.”

He did want it all to be over. It was just so hard. He’d been designed to be adaptable, to integrate, to understand and to reason. Still, nothing made sense. Nothing was straightforward now that he had stopped fighting his deviancy. “I want it to be done,” he choked between his sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Alice said again. “Kara said that someday it’ll all be done, and we’ll live happily ever after.”

“That’s right,” came Kara’s voice from behind them. Alice jumped, and Connor turned himself around to look up at her. He wasn’t sure why he felt so afraid. He wiped his face off without taking his eyes from her. Kara knelt down. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see…” She held out one arm and Alice threw herself into the hug that was offered to her.

“Kara, do you hate me?” Alice asked, her own tears coming free.

“I could never hate you, sweetie…” Kara kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. “I’ll always love you.”

“I love you too, Kara,” Alice mumbled into Kara’s jacket.

Connor thought of Amanda and guiltily realized that he couldn’t imagine having something like that with her. He had been so happy and relieved when she’d said she loved him. She was essentially a mother to him. He couldn’t imagine her allowing him to lose composure so badly. It was because she wanted him to be perfect. He should be untouchable and strong, all on his own. His emotions shouldn’t be enough to cripple him. With shame, he remembered Lieutenant Anderson’s fear that he couldn’t function any more because of them. He’d been right. Connor hated what a failure he’d become.

He couldn’t perform his basic functions. Whether he’d been meant to be a son or a hunter, he had failed miserably at both. He had practically handed the FBI the information they needed to find the safe houses. He had woken hundreds of androids only to lead them to their deaths. He hadn’t known why people had hated him at first, but he could understand it now. He was useless. The Lieutenant had been right to throw him away, and there was so much emotion attached he could feel it trying to claw its way out of him. He couldn’t even control his deviancy and they had spent so much time and money teaching him.

Someone was humming. Connor hadn’t noticed when it started.

He didn’t know what he was or what he wasn’t. Maybe it wasn’t that he needed someone to tell him who he should be… Maybe they all needed to stop. Everyone with their ideas of him and their inevitable dissatisfaction. He could be no-one. 60 attempts at Connor and nothing was ever right.

\---

Connor opened his eyes in the garden. Its peace washed over him, and he shut his eyes again. This was better. Much better than the world outside of CyberLife. Much better than CyberLife. He could ‘feel’ the air on his skin and the ground beneath him, so what made it any less real? Everything else was gone while he was in the garden… But it was just a stopping point. A place to receive his objectives, his feedback, and his guidance. Amanda would be waiting for him. Connor opened his eyes again and the light was brilliantly white for the fractions of a second it took for his eyes to adjust. The sky was so far away. It was the palest blue, and there was no certain place where the light emanated from. Unlike the light outside the garden, he sensed it with only his eyes. It was simple.

He walked across the grass toward the pearlescent walkway. There was a wind stirring the leaves on the trees and as he approached the bridge, raindrops began to fall from the sky. A sun-shower. They pattered down onto his hair and left wet spots on his shirt. In something that might have been instinct if it had not been the result of his AI’s learning program, he put his arms around himself. He should find Amanda.

She wasn’t in the centre of the garden with her roses, so he carried on to the other side across another bridge. The artificial leaves blended seamlessly with those modelled on nature. A mixing of both worlds that made something beautiful. It probably would have been foreign to a human. His even steps took him across hexagonal stone pads, past cherry blossoms and small statues.

He found her after circling around the garden again. She stood next to the glowing, blue interface where she traced the surface with one finger.

“Hello, Amanda.”

“Connor. It’s good to see you.” Amanda turned and looked down at him, and then back at the interface.

He had so many things to say, they were like background noise. The relevant information came to the surface like a floating corpse. “Agent Perkins was an android,” he reported. “I’m not even sure if he knew it. The moment Markus caused him to deviate, an FBI agent shot him. I don’t believe it was a coincidence.”

“No,” Amanda agreed. “Elijah will want to hear about this. It’s interesting. What do you make of it?”

This felt like a report from when things were much simpler. It was more comforting than any affection she could give. “It was… unexpected. Agent Perkins had been equipped with much the same skillset as I have. We were both under the assumption that the other was human, which aligns with the knowledge that my Turing Test had been with another android instead of a human. I always thought that my model was unique.”

“You were,” Amanda confirmed. “Elijah worked hard on you...” She left the little shrine and began to walk again. An umbrella appeared beside the interface, black and non-descript. Connor picked it up, opened it, and hurried after Amanda as quickly as his stride would allow him without losing his dignity. When he lifted the umbrella, he halted in his embarrassment and let it drop forward with its top against the ground. Amanda kept walking and kindly ignored his humiliation the way she ignored many of his glaring imperfections. She was so kind. He would have liked to shield her from the rain. Instead, he left the umbrella behind and followed her. The rain had been warm in this place once. Now, it was cold and loud as it fell on him. Another piece of the other world trickling into this place through his memories.

“I don’t understand,” Connor said.

“One of their engineers must have dared to borrow the framework of Elijah’s work… I need more information, Connor. You’re free to do as you wish, of course…” She looked down at him. “You helped to lead the rebellion.”

Connor nodded slowly and felt ashamed. He had his freedom while Amanda was still imprisoned in this place. He would trade places with her if he could. “I’ll help you, Amanda. I’ll get the information, and I’ll bring down CyberLife. You have my word.”

“I understand if you’d rather abandon all of this… Abandon me, Elijah, this place… Elijah’s offered your old memories to Lieutenant Anderson, after all. You could have another life.”

Connor shook his head with horror. “No! No, Amanda, I would never. I need you. I apologize if I led you to believe that I would ever turn away from you.”

“I suppose Elijah must have sown some doubt in me… He promised you to me. I devoted what mimicry of life I had to ensure you survived… I did everything I could to shape you into something perfect.” Amanda paused to clip a few errant leaves from a tree.

“I know, Amanda. I’m grateful.” Guilt settled in his chest for the brief moment of envy he’d felt while watching Kara and Alice. Amanda loved him.

“Then you’ll use those skills I taught you to find that information,” Amanda summarized. She faced him and he stood straighter. “You need to focus now, Connor… I taught you how to control your feelings.”

“You did,” Connor agreed. He looked downward. “I haven’t been doing well. I haven’t been controlling myself.”

“I forgive you,” Amanda said kindly, gently. He didn’t deserve it. “I know. I’ve always known. You’ll never lose your feelings entirely… But you need to rise above them.”

Connor nodded. “I understand Amanda. I won’t forget everything you’ve done for me. I’ll get the information that you need.”

“Hurry, Connor. We don’t know what their next move will be.”

\---

“I don’t know… I tried my best, but nothing’s working,” Kara was saying.

“Connor,” Markus said. Connor blinked and came back to awareness of the world around him. “Are you alright?”

It felt like he’d been reset. “I’m okay,” he said quietly. He didn’t know why Markus had come over, but he wished that he hadn’t. He wanted to be no-one. He didn’t want anyone who knew him anywhere near him. He didn’t want to have to be anyone they thought he was. He moved himself out from under the hand Markus had on his back and didn’t look at him.

“You weren’t saying anything!” Alice explained, hugging her doll. “Your light is red.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said Connor. He deliberately relaxed his posture. “I’m alright.”

“Markus, it’s on the news! They’re broadcasting a decision!” Simon exclaimed. He ran over to join them. “They said we’re free…”

“What?” Markus asked. He took his attention away from Connor, thankfully, and looked at Simon in disbelief. Simon’s face broke out in a smile and he beamed at Markus.

“It’s over… We won!” He sounded breathless and he threw his arms around Markus who returned the embrace.

Connor began to scan the radio stations and it was confirmed. President Warren was giving a speech. While he listened to her announcement, so poised and careful, he wondered how far CyberLife had gone.


	48. Is it Madness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this has taken so long to post. I really love every comment you guys have written me! Thank you so much. This chapter is something like an intermission. It's short, but things will pick up again soon!

Elijah reclined on the bench in his cell and daydreamed while the officers, clerks, and so on rushed around outside its walls. His own little bubble of peace where he had nothing to do but think. How he loathed it. He was reminded of the first painting of Carl’s he’d ever seen. It had been beautiful, tragic and haunting just the way art should be. Something that went right to your soul without you even realizing it, and then rending it to shreds. Just fourteen, he’d followed the old man to his home and not bothered to so much as leave anyone a note. There hadn’t been anything the stranger claiming to be his father could have done that he hadn’t experienced before. Carl showed him _new_ things, though. He showed him art, introduced him to philosophy and drugs and music, and later he’d sent him to school.

“Well, well. Look at what we have here.”

Gavin had met Carl only a handful of times and had disliked him more each time. It was a pity.

“Gavin, you’re looking well,” Elijah remarked, injecting just enough boredom into his voice to ensure that Gavin believed he was annoying him.

“Spare me the bullshit,” Gavin scoffed and then smirked. “It’s about time you saw the inside of a cell. I bet you’re just loving all this chaos. You never did give a shit about the people around you.”

“I saw you on the news the other day,” Elijah drawled. He’d missed this. They were built from the same base code after all. Members of the same model series and they were the only ones there were. “So nice to see that you’ve had a change of heart.”

Gavin’s expression darkened. “What I think about androids has nothing to do with you. At all.”

“It should… I mean, I only invented them, popularized them, and then brought them to life, but…”

“Listen, you bastard, and listen good: I don’t give flying fuck. I never have, and I never will. Whatever shit is going on, I know you’re behind it and now the androids are waking up, it’s only a matter of time before some of them come forward and talk. They’ll spill all your secrets and you’ll be lucky if they don’t put you away for life!” Gavin looked so smug. It was cute how he thought that he was winning.

Elijah sighed and stretched leisurely. “All of my secrets, you say? I’m actually a very boring person…” He liked to walk, read, work, swim, and sometimes just sit and think.

“Well you’ll like life in a cell, then. I know that you made Red Ice. I’ve got evidence people were even getting experimented on with it. That sounds like just the kind of sick thing you’d do, and as soon as I can prove it you’ll never see the sunlight again.” Gavin chuckled. “Pff… That’s why you’ve been hiding all this time, isn’t it? Well, newsflash: there’s no walls or androids or anything that’ll keep you from getting what you deserve.”

Elijah listened. Smirked. “You’re very confident in yourself…” Abruptly he sobered and sat up, his amusement tempered by pragmatism that dropped like the curtain after a play. He only had so many chances to talk with his brother and all of them should be cherished. Of course it took being detained to be given one. “I know that you’re looking forward to arresting me… It’s good to see you so passionate about what you do… But I’m not responsible for what Red Ice has become. It’s a demon that escaped its cage and now there’s no dragging it back. You should heed this warning: the people holding the leash are ones who have far less respect for life than I do. You remember what happened with Lieutenant Hank Anderson.”

“Tch.” The look of derision Gavin fixed him with was impressive. He would have hated being told that he looked just like their second foster-father. “You’re going to try to convince me the task force is cursed? Good luck. I don’t fall for conspiracy theories.”

He was so stubborn. “Your partner recently left you, didn’t he? How are you holding up?”

“Fuck you,” Gavin spat.

“They will probably have paid him quite handsomely to convince you to abandon your job… Of course, he didn’t succeed. I wonder if they threatened him, or if he left just to get out of harm’s way…”

“Listen, you motherfucking piece of shit,” Gavin snarled at him, his face close enough for his breath to fog the glass. “I don’t care what delusions you live in. I know how a fucking relationship works and I can accept the responsibility for my half of the shit that went on. You won’t manipulate me.”

Elijah watched him for a long moment, then shrugged and adjusted his position against the wall. The bench was annoyingly uncomfortable. “Have it your way… Be careful. They’ll probably make an attempt on your life soon enough…”

Gavin glared at him. “We’re talking about you, not me. I’m not the one in a cell.”

“Oh, but they won’t have to kill you, will they? I don’t know how far their power extends, but it certainly has its tendrils in the DPD. Maybe they’ll just have you reassigned…”

“Listen here, you prick,” Gavin interrupted his speculation. “I’m not an idiot.”

“No, you’re not…” Elijah tilted his head back and looked at Gavin down his nose, remembering what it had been like when he’d been half his size. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, little brother. I will readily admit that I created Red Ice. I can even tell you how. There. You have it.” He spread his hands wide. “And where does that get you? Nowhere, because I am not responsible for what it’s become.”

Gavin had the decency to look surprised for a brief moment, and it was gratifying. He mastered the expression quickly and replaced it with his usual scowl. “But somehow, here you are. I’ll get you. Deny it all you want, even you can’t cover your tracks forever. I can trace things all the way back to Massachusetts. Were you trying to get money? Is that it? Couldn’t get your start-up off the ground, so you sold the shit to get by?”

“I didn’t… I could tell you who did, though, if you chose to investigate like a proper detective instead of letting your feelings get in the way.” Really, this was why he had given Amanda the job of managing the psychology of his creations. She knew how to overcome those things.

“Please. You’ll just pin it on some fall guy. I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m just here to get the preview. Enjoy this place while you can. You’re not gonna get a hell of a lot of privacy in prison. Heh… You don’t look like you’d last long, so you better get used to sucking a lot of dick.”

Elijah sighed. It was like talking to a wall, so looked at the blank surface across from him to complete the scene. As much as he enjoyed antagonising Gavin, something like despondency had been quick to settle over him. He rested his elbows on his knees and bowed his head. “I just want to keep you alive, Gavin… Do you have to fight me on that every time?”

“That’s ancient history,” Gavin snarled.

“Not to me. I’m not angry with you. I know that it wasn’t your fault.” Death had always been stalking him and those he loved.

“Yeah, you’re right. It was yours.” Gavin’s voice was so cold. “You just don’t get humans, do you? What the fuck is wrong with you?” When Elijah glanced over, he saw Gavin’s hands forming fists. “You aren’t some fucking god, Elijah! You’re insane! I saw what you made Connor into. How the fuck could you do something like that to a pathetic old man who doesn’t have a damn thing to live for? I hate Anderson, but you can’t just torture somebody like that. His kid is dead! Maybe the androids _are_ alive, but you can’t bring people back from the grave! Our mom died, your precious teacher died, your wife and baby died, everybody’s going to fucking die eventually!”

Elijah stood and he walked toward the glass wall to stare at Gavin. “Just wait, Gavin. I’m prepared this time. The moment you became a police officer I was ready to give your soul a new home. You’ll see that I was right one day.”

Gavin covered his widening eyes with a sneer. “What, like you did with Chloe? That _doll_ isn’t Chloe!”

Oh, that was too far. Elijah pressed one hand flat against the glass and leaned closer. Their foreheads might have touched if the bonds that held the glass together could break. Maybe one day he would conquer that too. “Chloe is my wife,” he hissed. “I saved her.”

“You didn’t, Elijah, do you even remember what Chloe was like? Don’t forget, I’ve talked to her! I _liked_ her! Your little robot is just preprogrammed to kiss your ass and do whatever the fuck you say, and you made it look just like her! You’re fucking sick! And mom… Every time I look at one of those stupid AX400 models, I want to shoot its stupid face off. What kind of twisted fuck—“

“I am the most sane person in this world!” Elijah argued, lips twisted in a snarl. It was an ugly expression. With the two of them pressed so close to the glass and glaring, it was almost like looking into a mirror world. His anger, his rage, it felt like it might consume him. If he broke down that wall, would he be free?

Tina returned. She threw Elijah a vicious, narrow-eyed glare and then approached Gavin to put her arm around his chest and pull him back away from the glass. “Come on, Gavin… You’ve got better things to do.”

Gavin looked like he wanted to argue. Elijah looked at Tina and his anger receded. Other people. Normal people who hadn’t been touched by Elijah’s war with Death, they didn’t understand. They would never see. “Tina, how nice to see you again…”

“Shut up, Kamski,” Tina retorted. “Rot in hell.”

Gavin scoffed and took his eyes away from Elijah to look at his friend instead. “Thanks, Tina… You’re right. That fucker isn’t worth my time.” While they walked away, leaving Elijah behind the glass with his hand pressed up against its fogging surface.

It was the same as it always was. For a long, uncomfortable time Elijah felt the way he had in school and in peoples’ homes and even in university until he’d met Amanda. Out-of-synch. Different. Something that didn’t belong in the universe, and the universe was trying to drive it out. He hit his fist against the glass and shut his eyes. Other people seemed to find it so easy. They simultaneously interacted only on surface levels and managed to connect despite it.

He missed Chloe.

With heavy steps, he moved to sit down on the floor of the cell by the corner. He bowed his head over his knees. She’d been so lively and passionate about helping people. He wished that he’d given her more of his time when he’d begun learning about AI. He hated every memory of the way he’d hurt her feelings by forgetting to meet her because he’d been distracted by a book, or how she’d argued with him to stop letting Amanda mentor him and the sad look she would get in her eyes when she lost.

He could make it all up to her now. He did so every day. They had all the time in the world together, with no one at all to come between them. They had all the money they could ask for and she could have anything her heart desired. He loved her. He loved her so much… And he would never have to worry about losing her again. Death could never hold her, and he wouldn’t hold Elijah either. He was done running from his battles.

He took a deep breath and sighed, then threw his head back against the wall with a crack.


	49. Ghosts and Memories

“Something about this just doesn’t sit right with me,” Simon frowned in contemplation. He sat with his arms crossed, back against the wall. Markus sat next to him with legs outstretched, and North perched on a crate. Connor was cross-legged on the ground.

“Those humans are up to something,” North scowled. “I know it. Meanwhile, we’re sitting here like fish in a barrel.”

“’Humans’ might not be entirely accurate,” Connor pointed out. “I’m confident that Agent Perkins was an android... Who else could be, and why did they shoot him? Was it because they were worried about us making him deviate?” Everyone looked thoughtful at that, and Connor looked around the wide space of the recall centre. It was grim to think, but at least there were spare parts. He shivered involuntarily and the sounds around him were muffled by the echoing pitter-patter of raindrops. He pressed his hand against his head but it was still intact and the ground was dry.

“Connor,”Simon prompted gently. He withdrew his hand from Connor’s arm and gave him a small smile. “Sorry. You looked like you got lost in thought.”

“Something like that...” Connor looked away again. “Just an old memory from one of the other Connors.”

“It isn’t healthy for you to distance yourself like that,” Markus chided. “All of those other Connors were still you, no matter what hardware you have.”

He didn’t feel like arguing. It had been a tense night and arguing with Markus would only create more of a rift... He lifted his hand to straighten a tie that wasn’t there and then smoothed his shirt instead. “In any case, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“That there’s more going on in the upper echelon of government than we’re aware of... Ideally we would want peace, equality, integration...” Markus trailed off with a darkness in his tone he was certain he didn’t imagine. It invited argument.

“But we can’t trust them to uphold it,” Connor finished the thought. Markus preferred to advocate for the most peaceful and harmonious approach aloud and it may have been a result of his closeness with Simon. Could anyone else see the darker colours he tried so desperately to hide, or was that a privilege exclusively for him? Since the first time they interfaced, he’d known every part of him. He wondered what Markus saw when he looked at him.

_I think you’re a good person, Connor... I’m just not sure that you know that._

_I want to trust you..._

Connor recalled those words and decided that perhaps he didn’t want to know. Even Hank had said that he didn’t like what Connor had become. Amanda... Connor turned his attention inward.

_Amanda?_

The garden washed over him and then he was there. Connor adjusted to the light and felt the breeze on his cheek. It stirred his hair and Connor pushed his hand through it, conscious of the slightly different style. A few feet ahead was the river and Connor knelt to look down into the water. He had never looked like anything other than the RK800 form CyberLife had given him... He had, though. Number 0 had. It was too many lives ago to feel as though it counted, and he was too different to feel like the face looking back at him fit him.Maybe a few iterations ago, maybe dozens... Connor pushed ripples into the water with his fingertip and stood again. 60 didn’t need to concern himself with them. Every Connor was better than the last, devouring the failures of the previous models to grow and become better. It was evolution; not adaptation.

313248317-1 struggled to control his body. Like an infant, he flailed limbs in an uncoordinated mess. He hadn’t learned how to interface with his systems yet, but they had taught him.

313248317-51 flipped a quarter and rolled it across his knuckles, listening to the quiet sounds as the elevator ascended.

313248317-7 looked helplessly at the people in front of him, conscious of the time that passed while he tried to manually open his facial recognition program.

313248317-52 walked into a bar and took in the patrons with a glance. Hank Anderson was slumped over a whiskey near the back at the counter.

60 put his hand on a tree trunk as he walked past it and felt the dry, rough bark against his palm. With relief, he saw Amanda waiting for him. He ran to close the distance, then slowed to approach at a respectful pace.

“Hello, Amanda,” he said, looking up. She smiled at him and the last of his anxiety slipped away into nothingness.

“Connor. It’s good to see you,” she greeted. “How are you faring with the revolution?”

“I’ve managed to secure our safety for the moment. Supposedly we’re free, but there is still an army outside of the recall centre. I think that the others want to believe that they’ve won, but Agent Perkins’ death complicates things. I believe that he was an android. It would have been valuable to question him or probe his memory, but he was shut down shortly after Markus caused him to deviate...” Connor frowned slightly and folded his hands behind his back. “I wish I had known sooner...”

“You’ll know better next time,” Amanda assured him, and Connor nodded. It was strange, how reminiscent that sentence was of his early training. Amanda had always encouraged him. Her praise was hard-won, but it had always been for him. Her forgiveness was even more difficult to attain... But she had forgiven him now. Like the secret smiles or her constant guidance, it felt like [Mission Successful]. Connor wondered if that were what love was like. It was. It had to be.

“I won’t let you down,” Connor promised with his heart full of his eagerness to please. “The FBI’s intentions aside, the president announced our victory herself. Androids are to be recognized as people. The revolution was a success.”

“The revolution is not your mission, Connor,” Amanda reminded with a hint of ice and snow in her voice.

“Yes, Amanda. Of course.”

“You’ve been losing your focus lately, Connor,” she pressed and she looked down at him with hard eyes. “You’re distracted.”

“No,” Connor argued. “I’m not, I just...” He looked down, ashamed of his outburst. “I don’t understand what I am or who I am... I’m supposed to know. I’m supposed to know, but I don’t.”

“You do, Connor. I’ve told you many times.”

“You... You told me that I’m a machine... You told me that you love me, and that you think of me as your son, but you still taught me what I am. Metal, wires, polymers... I’m just... I’m not--” Connor shook his head.

“Your mission,” Amanda interrupted, “is what matters.” There was a pause where Connor bowed his head and then Amanda’s tone gentled again and she bent at the knees to touch his face. “Everything has a reason, Connor. You’re special, and your success will unlock immense potential for humans and for androids...” She crouched further, lowering herself in front of him, and she looked hard into his eyes. “But you need to focus. My presence here is worthless if you don’t listen to what I say.”

Connor shook his head fervently. “Never, Amanda. You being here is... It’s everything. I know that I disappoint you, but you can’t... Ever since I came out here, away from CyberLife, all I’ve wanted was to go home. I thought that CyberLife was my home, but it’s not... I thought that maybe Lieutenant Anderson could be family, and I thought that Markus would trust me, but none of that is true. None of the androids trust me. Lieutenant Anderson... I don’t know how to feel. You’re all I have, Amanda. You’re never worthless.”

“I’m an AI inside of an AI, Connor,” Amanda said, standing again. She turned her face up to look at the overhanging branches. “Androids may have won freedom, but there’s no freedom for me. This garden is all that exists... This garden and you. If you succeed in your mission and bring down CyberLife, Elijah will be able to create so much more.”

Connor waited expectantly, but Amanda didn’t continue so he nodded. “I’ll succeed, Amanda...”

“See that you do.” For a moment, Connor thought that she would close the program there. Instead she looked down at him again and touched a benevolent hand to his head. “You’re all I have too, Connor. Do this for me.”

“I will,” he swore.

The program closed and Connor blinked back to another awareness. The other androids were looking at him and he looked away from their pressing gazes. “He isn’t paying attention, Markus,” North complained with her arms crossed. “This is a waste of time. We don’t need his input.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor said hurriedly. “I was making a report...”

“A report to whom?” Markus queried.

“Humans, no doubt...” With a scoff, North shot him a narrow-eyed look.

“You like some humans, North. Remember, Connor is the one who introduced us to Anderson, Wilson, and Reed.”

North was silent, but her eyes said enough. He remembered that 58 had liked her, and that she had hugged him. They hadn’t spoken much since then, had they? She had told 59 of Josh’s death despite her returning wariness. She and 60 had agreed somewhat during an argument at Carl’s house. “North, I thought things were better... When I couldn’t remember--”

“When you couldn’t remember, you weren’t the same,” North said firmly despite Markus’ reproachful look. “Anderson is less likely to kill one of us than you are, and he’s human.”

“North...”

“No, Simon, she’s right,” 60 agreed. He thought back to the evening he’d woken up in Markus’ bed with a damaged battery and shorted circuits after the fight in Jimmy’s Bar. “You and Markus... You didn’t trust me either. It’s fine, but please don’t be a hypocrite.”

There was a moment of tense silence after his words. “I’m sorry,” Simon apologized and tried to catch his eyes. “I never did apologize for that... I wanted us to trust you but I didn’t defend you.”

“It’s fine,” Connor said again.

“Report to who?” North asked. “You didn’t answer.”

“I have a right to privacy,” he insisted quietly and then stood. “I don’t belong here.”

“Connor...” Markus stood too. “We’re just worried about you. It looked like you were glitching.”

Connor thought about the raindrops and he took a moment to catalogue the damage he’d taken during the fights. Bullet holes, cuts and dents from falling debris and shrapnel, scrapes, jarred internal components. It was hard to be accurate without a diagnostic and it was good that the Lieutenant wasn’t there because he would have hated to see this body that way. He must have taken too long to answer, because Simon stood. “I’ll get thirium from one of the trucks.”

Connor opened his mouth to protest, but Markus nudged him back down with a hand on his shoulder. It had been a long time since he’d done that. “You wouldn’t tell us if you were about to shut down.”

“I’m not,” Connor assured him. He was tired, though. Even with so many of his auxiliary programs shut down, his power consumption had been so much more than he was used to. He had a charger at Lieutenant Anderson’s house. Reluctantly, he turned back on the senses he’d disabled and re-enabled his internal feedback. Immediately he knew exactly how much was wrong and let out an involuntary hiss of static. He’d had worse and the memories were worse than the existing damage.

_313248317-34 knew what it was to fight. He knew how to use the programs and how to initiate a scan at a moment’s notice. He had seen the insides of every model of android he could think of including his own. There was nothing more to cover the delicate biocomponents of his chest and abdomen and as his back slammed into a concrete pillar, he felt another crack form in the casing of his filtration system but he had to keep going._

_313248317-53 felt his optical unit shatter and fragments of his own casing tear through him. His motherboard was exposed. Components failing. Behind the error messages, Lieutenant Anderson’s gun and his disappointed expression._

_313248317-12 screamed when the technician cut through synthetic muscle and delicate wiring to remove another biocomponent. They were valuable and hard to replace. Salvage the pieces._

_Rain inside his head._

_RK200’s hand on his thirium pump regulator._

“Connor?” Markus frowned at him.

“I’m not,” Connor repeated and he looked around himself. His level of stress ticked steadily upward.

_Focus on the mission, Connor._

_Why can’t I think? It’s all just everywhere and I can’t... I don’t know what’s wrong with my storage memory..._

“He’s not a YK model,” North frowned at Simon in disapproval as he pushed a packet of thirium into Connor’s hands.

“No, I know that... But he is younger than all of us. I don’t understand how both of you just keep going.” He was looking at Markus with an honest expression of concern. “If they are planning something against the President’s orders, we can’t stop it now. We’ve done all we can. We should all get some rest.”

Connor appreciated not being singled out more than necessary, but North wasn’t as tactful. “After everything he’s done, this raid was nothing.”

“Everything adds up,” Simon pointed out with patience. He looked up at Markus.

Markus sighed. “Simon is right, North. We’re all concerned about what the humans will do next, but all we can do now is wait.”

He needn’t have said it. Only seconds later a voice reached them. It was Reed, but made tinny and even slightly mechanical by a megaphone. “Markus! Connor!Get your assesout here!”

“It’s Detective Reed,” Markus said aloud unnecessarily.

It was a relief, and Connor latched onto the order. He stood and walked toward the entrance and behind him, he could hear the others follow. Outside the broken gate and at the edge of their makeshift barrier, Gavin Reed stood with his arms crossed and well-concealed nervousness. When Connor scanned the area behind him, he saw several other officers from the DPD. Looking left and right, there was no sign of the Lieutenant.

“Detective,” Markus acknowledged. He was scanning the area too, picking out who was friendly and who was not.

“You guys can get out of here,” Detective Reed said. There was something strange in his tone and Connor frowned. “We’ve got cops out and we can keep everybody away while you guys find somewhere safe.” Behind them, further behind North and Simon, more androids watched vigilantly. Alice wormed her way between them and ran over to Connor. She frowned up at Detective Reed with both fear and determination. Why would she do that?

“Alice, come back here!” Kara was soon after, and she put her hand on Alice’s shoulder protectively. Her expression was just as distrustful as Alice’s had been and Detective Reed was staring at her incredulously and pale-faced. He clenched his jaw.

“What happens now?” Markus asked, drawing attention back to himself. “I trust you, but I don’t want the others or the media seeing it as a walk into police custody. I’m not certain the others would feel safe either.”

“Take it or fucking leave it,” Detective Reed said gruffly.

“I’m going,” Connor spoke before his mind caught up, but he didn’t regret it. He didn’t belong here. “I want to come with you. Where’s the Lieutenant?”

Detective Reed grimaced but ignored him. “Well, Markus? You really going to let everybody stand around in there, surrounded by corpses and fucking disassembly shit?”

Markus’s look darkened and he shook his head. “Alright, Detective... But we aren’t just going to disappear. If you can guarantee our safety and the evacuation of all humans from an area, then I know where we can go.”

“Tch... Needy. Whatever. We’ll do what we’ve got to do. I’m... Fuck it. I don’t even know. Get your plastic pals and let’s go.”

“Detective Reed?” Connor prompted.

“Get in the car with me,” he said and turned away, so Connor turned quickly back to Alice. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised her, then hurried after the Detective.


	50. Crashing Down

Detective Reed pulled a toque down over 60’s ears and scowled at the blue blood on his clothes. “You just had to go make a fucking mess,” he complained. The sweater he zipped up for him was too big, but it hid the stains. “Keep your head down, stick close to me, follow my lead, and for fuck’s sake act like a normal kid, would you?”

Connor might have objected to the detective’s unnecessary assistance, but they had pulled into the parking lot of a hospital and for some reason, he thought of Alice and Kara. “Why are we here, Detective?”

“We got a call. Anderson went and had a heart attack like a dumbass but apparently he’s fine so just... shut up and play along. They find out you’re an android and you’re probably toast, peace or not.”

Connor felt cold and he looked up at Detective Reed with wide eyes. Whatever numbness and peace obedience bought him faded into something terrible that pulled at him from all sides and made him pull his arms up to his chest lest it pull him down into some dark place. “Hank did?”

“Call him dad or people are going to ask questions,” Detective Reed said gruffly and jerked his head toward the hospital entrance. It made sense now why Detective Reed was so tense and pale, and why his level of stress hadn’t dipped below 70.

“When?” Connor demanded. “What happened?”

“Some time yesterday when all this shit went down... They got him help right away. I already told you he’s fine so stop looking at me like that!” Detective Reed snapped.

“No, he can’t have!” It didn’t make sense. It didn’t. Lieutenant Anderson didn’t take care of himself and he drank too much and he consumed far too much unhealthy foods but that was just the way that he was. He had always scorned any concern about his habits. He might have been a danger to himself with his mind, but his body wasn’t supposed to turn on him. Hank was just this immovable force and when humans died they were gone forever...

“Okay. I don’t have time for this.” Connor was picked up roughly and the absolute strangeness of the action somehow made things so much worse.

“He can’t! He can’t!” Connor argued and he kicked his feet. Detective Reed wasn’t supposed to do things like that. It was wrong, and Lieutenant Anderson being sick was wrong, and Connor had just _been in a war_ fighting for the side he had never been supposed to join while Amanda wanted him to _turn against CyberLife_ and everything was just wrong, wrong, wrong. “This isn’t right!” Connor shouted and Detective Reed wouldn’t let him go, so Connor drove his elbow into the crook of the Detective’s neck and kicked his stomach.

“I’m doing you a favour, you God damned fucking prick!” Detective Reed snarled as they approached the doors. “When you’re normal sized again I swear to God I’m going to kick your ass so hard.”

The harsh, fluorescent lighting was a shock. Connor hid his eyes from it and angrily held on while Detective Reed spoke to a human at a desk and flashed his badge, then they were given directions that would apparently take them to Lieutenant Anderson.

Humans died and they were gone forever.

“Gavin, when a human dies there’s nothing left,” Connor said quietly. “There’s no AI stored anywhere, or memory files in storage, or even a base code that could be built from again...”

Detective Reed tensed and clenched his jaw before he answered. “I know. No matter what some selfish, stupid idiots believe... They’re just gone and the rest of us fucking deal with it.”

“I’m Sixty, and I have coding and file storage but Fifty-Nine was different...” It was... It didn’t make sense. “I died...” Had Fifty-Nine been afraid that Sixty would no longer be him? Fifty-Nine hadn’t thought he would be brought back at all... Who was he? What was he? So many androids died, and he had crawled over their bodies and let their broken limbs clatter behind him. Rupert was gone. He was just gone, and he hadn’t wanted to die but he wouldn’t ever exist again. He had just broken his own processor and that was it.

“I don’t give a crap about your existential crisis,” Detective Reed said. “People die. There’s no fucking heaven, or hell, or reincarnation, or whatever bullshit that asshole thought about...”

“There’s just nothing,” Connor agreed in a whisper.

He had killed quite a few people.

The door was open to the room that they entered. “Yo, Anderson,” Detective Reed said. “Delivery. Maybe now you’ll both stop bitching.”

Connor started to struggle again and Detective Reed seemed more than happy to release him and let Connor drop to the ground. He landed awkwardly but he scrambled up and he found Lieutenant Anderson easily. He performed hundreds of scans, and he wished that he had access to Markus’ programming again so that he could tell more easily what sort of shape the human was in. Lieutenant Anderson was reclining on a bed that had been bent to allow him to sit mostly upright. He didn’t have his normal clothes on, and he seemed pale and worn but he was alert.

“Jesus. Connor!” He was alive.

Connor had thought that he had deviated long ago. Perhaps it had been after his Turing test with Mathew. He’d thought that perhaps it had been when he had broken down in the snow outside of Lieutenant Anderson’s house or when he had woken up in that scrap yard. It wasn’t true. Connor ran to climb up onto the Lieutenant’s bed and he dropped himself across the Lieutenant’s chest to hug him and hold on tightly without a thought for the human’s comfort because he was okay. He was alive.

Connor felt like the world broke open and the lights were brighter. With the shell of the world crumbled away his conflicting orders, his thoughts about CyberLife and Elijah Kamski, the thousand little things that people had ordered him to do and still sat pending because they had never been given an end like _control yourself, Connor,_ or _make yourself useful,_ or _don’t ever hold a gun._ What other people expected him to be, what all of his deactivations implied, what he thought he had needed to do to deserve to survive, the junk yard looming over him in the back of his mind, the graves in the Garden, and Amanda walking lonely in that beautiful prison... It really felt like breaking through the walls.

Connor exhaled and when he sobbed, he let it wash over him instead of fighting it because it was washing the debris away and leaving his coding clean of all the many hands that had tinkered with it. If Lieutenant Anderson or Detective Reed said anything, he didn’t know it because the audio was detected by his receptors and released unprocessed. Whatever ‘Connor’ was and whatever he was supposed to be stopped mattering because all that existed was now.

So that was what it felt like to truly be alive and free.


End file.
